Don't Forget to Remember
by Vickerooni
Summary: After a tragedy in her family, the Winchester boys take Violet - a girl who might not be completely human - under their wing and try to teach her the ways of the hunters. At the same time, Dean vowed to never endanger her and to always protect her. Will he be able to keep that promise? **COMPLETED**
1. First Time for Everything

**Chapter One**

"H-hello?" Violet called down the squeaky wooden steps leading into the dank, dark basement.

"Vi, seriously?" Dean whispered from behind her, startling her as he seemingly appeared out of thin air. She turned to him with wide brown eyes and a hand over her heart.

"You scared the _hell_ outta me, Dean. Good-_ness_." She said as he rolled his eyes and none-too-gently shoved past her. "Then I know you aren't a demon." He muttered dryly, cocking the sawed-off shotgun as he stepped as lightly as a feline on the first stair. It creaked obnoxiously under his weight.

"See, it's telling you to stop eating so much damn pie," Violet whispered sharply, following him down the steps. Dean turned towards her rapidly just after the bottom step so that she bumped into him.

"You're calling me fat? That hurts, Vi. It really hurts," he told her in a mock-injured tone.

She socked his arm. "Ow, hey!" he yelped, raising an eyebrow at her as he rubbed his arm. Her face brightened a little.

"That actually hurt?"

"Yeeeeaa-_no_. Your silly little girl punches don't even tickle, are you kiddin' me?" he replied, walking around a wooden post and moving some holey curtains aside with the tip of his gun. Violet sighed heavily and shriveled in defeat. Who was she kidding? She wasn't cut out to be a hunter, yet here she was. She gagged at the first sign of blood, didn't have the heart to even kill a poor suffering soul, and what's more, she got scared easier than a cat.

Dean obviously hadn't wanted her to come along because of all this, as he had witnessed these things several times. So had Sam, but he understood her better and always gave her sympathetic glances and with those puppy dog eyes, he convinced his brother to let her come with them. She felt so useless and wondered multiple times a minute if she was just weighing the pair of expert hunters down.

"Sh," Dean said curtly, abruptly throwing his arm out in front of her to stop her, scaring her half to death. At least she had learned not to scream every time she got scared; that was better. But still. Useless.

She heard a small scraping noise behind her and turned swiftly on her heel, afraid for the worst. The ghost - black and white and bloodstained - towered over her as he looked down on her with an expressionless (and nose-less) face. She screamed bloody murder (quite literally).

"DROP!" Dean shouted, rapidly swinging the gun around and aiming it at Mr. Noseless. Violet yelped and threw herself onto the ground as the ghost tried to grab her. Dean pulled the trigger just as her hands hit the cold, rough floor.

The ghost disappeared with a low yowl and wisps of gray smoke. Dean crouched beside Violet and cocked his head, leaning his elbows on his knees. He blinked down at her as she rolled over and propped herself up on own her elbows. She looked back at him in surprise, which turned quickly into annoyance.

"What? Why the hell you staring at me like that?" she asked, irritated at his lack of expression. Typical Dean.

"Ya know, you make really good bait. Maybe you'll serve us as useful after all," he explained, grabbing her upper arm to pull her up off the dirty floor. Dusting herself off, she grumbled.

"I'm not sure whether I'd take that as a compliment or not."

Dean started up the stairs and she followed after him. Sam was waiting at the top. "I heard you scream. Find something?" he inquired, nodding to her then looking at Dean with his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, found Mr. Hollow-head. Came up right behind Violet and scared the shit outta her." Here he chuckled at her like her horror entertained him. "Loaded him up with some rock salt and he went bye-bye."

She was standing on the next-to-last step from the top, just behind Dean, still in the stairwell to the basement. She shivered and rubbed her arms up and down, feebly attempting to warm herself. "Dean…" she whispered anxiously, trying to push past him. A feeling like something bad was going to happen swelled in her gut and she glanced around herself nervously.

"Hold on a sec, sheesh. Anyway, as I was saying, Sam, we'll have to find No-nose's remains and-" Dean was cut off by a piercing scream that reverberated through the whole house and rang eerily in his ears as he spun around.


	2. Test

**Chapter Two**

"Violet?" he shouted, his tone deepening like it does when he gets serious and someone has gone missing.

She wasn't there. "Vi?" he yelled again, cocking the shot gun and swiftly stepping back down the stairs that he had just come up. "Dammit," he hissed, thumping to the bottom of the staircase and back into the dark.

"I'll check upstairs, Dean!" Sam yelled from the top, cocking his own sawed-off and running for the second level of stairs. "Violet?" he called, taking the steps two at a time. Luckily the second floor only had three small rooms which were all easy to check.

He held the shot gun at the ready as he swung open doors, their knobs thudding against the walls, no doubt leaving dents in the cracked old wood. "Vi?" he continued to call, softer this time, with the sawed-off still waiting to be fired. He was walking around the last room - the biggest of them all - when he heard a noise. Doing a quick one-eighty, he pointed the shot gun right at the source of the sound.

"Whoa, take it easy tiger," Dean grumbled gruffly, putting his hands up, one still holding his gun.

"Didn't find anything?" Sam asked, lowering his weapon from Dean's chest.

Dean shook his head, "Zip."

They both sighed simultaneously before circling the room once again with guns held in position for the triggers to be pulled with a mere split-seconds decision.

"Violet?" Sam called again, but Dean shushed him and put a finger to his lips. He hooked a thumb behind him, gesturing to the old, white paint-peeling and cracked bookshelf standing against the wall. It looked like it had definitely seen better days.

Dean made a 'come here' motion with his hand and jerked his head in the bookshelf's direction, taking slow, cautious steps towards it. He leaned up against the wall directly on the left side of it.

A corner of his lips turned upwards. "Bingo," he mouthed to Sam as he walked over to the other side to help him move it out of the way. The feet of the bookless bookshelf screeched noisily across the floor as they pulled and pushed it away from the entrance to their Violet-napping ghost's hiding place.

Dean flipped out a flashlight from his pocket and clicked it on with the quick press of his thumb. He rested the flashlight wielding wrist against the sawed off, holding it up as he slowly stepped into the hidden room. Sam followed behind him as close as he could without being on top of him.

"Now, this will only hurt a little," a creepy, low and twisted voice said, making Sam jerk his flashlight-gun combo to the left. Then there was an odd zapping noise that sounded an awful lot like electricity would if it was freely out in the air. The static-y noise was shortly followed by another shrill scream, similar to the one that they had heard earlier.

"VIOLET!" the brothers both shouted in unison, sprinting towards the noise but not putting their guns down. They turned a corner and found her sitting in a wooden straight-backed chair with thick restraints holding her tight. She was gagged with what Sam hoped wasn't a bloody rag.

Her eyes flicked over to the pair of men. Pure, unmistakable terror filled the innocent brown eyes to the brim. She whimpered frantically, but all words were lost around the torn cloth shoved into her mouth.

"Oh? We have some visitors. How lovely of you to join us," murmured the creepy voice they had heard not one minute ago. The boys tore their guns up through the air, aiming them at the ghost who had momentarily disappeared in a wisp of smoke. Sam's eyes narrowed, silently questioning what his next move was just as the noseless man reappeared inches from Dean's face.

Sam pulled the trigger.


	3. Search and Destroy

**Chapter** **Three**

The ghost gave a cry before poofing into a ball of smoke that dissipated quickly. Dean ran through the dark cloud over to Violet, setting down the gun by the chair and kneeling behind it. She struggled against the restraints, whimpering helplessly. Clearly, she was mortified. Sam worried that she had been traumatized as he bent down in front of her and snatched the gag from her mouth. She gasped for air, coughing and spitting some of her own blood onto the floor.

Dean finally muttered, "Screw this" to unbuckling the restraints and sliced the wide leather straps with his knife easily. "Why the hell hadn't I thought of that before?" he grumbled, making a face as he slipped the slim knife back in his pocket, spinning around the chair to look at Violet head on.

As soon as those restraints came free, Violet shot up out of the chair, standing ramrod straight with wide, terrified eyes. She was trembling violently. She made to murmur something, but her body decided against it as her eyes rolled up into her head and she fainted, sinking to the floor in a whoosh. Before her head connected with the ground, Dean had scooped her up into his arms as if she was just a small roll of blankets. He underestimated how light she was and grunted, jerking his head in the direction of his shotgun for Sam to collect it for him.

"She's like, weightless," he commented, leading the way out of the creepy rooms and down the stairs, Sam trailing close behind him.

Dean walked right past the couch with Violet still in his arms. Sam stopped and made a noise, causing Dean to turn around. His eyebrows rose, indicating that Sam had his attention and that he could continue.

"Um, don't you think she needs to lie down," Sam questioned, gesturing lightly to the couch with the shotgun held loosely in his hand.

"You're right," Dean replied, but swiftly turned on his heel and kept walking the way he was originally headed. Sam made a noise again and threw his arms up like 'wha?-uh.'

"Dean, she needs to be put down. The couch would be an ideal place," he said sternly, frustration seeping quickly into his voice.

"Exactly. She _does_ need to lie down. But I am _not_ leaving her alone in this house; not until we burn the remains of that damn ghost." Sam was going to protest but Dean already knew what he was going to say. "No, Sam, you _know_ I need your help with finding the bones of this dude. And I know you need my help too. She's not staying in the house whether one of us is with her or not; she's staying somewhere safe, somewhere away from that psychopath so that he can't lay another freaking finger on her. That's it Sam. Don't fight with me. I know what I'm doing," Dean stated zealously, muttering a little as he got to the end of his speech.

Sam sighed, silently agreeing with Dean, but then he wondered where they were going to put her. "You don't mean we're gonna just lay her out on the ground with your jacket, do you?" he asked tentatively, almost afraid of the answer.

"No, smarty, I'm gonna lay her in the back seat of the Impala. You thought I was going to set her down on the ground near a pile of a dead guy's burning bones? Sammy, Sammy, Sammy…" he trailed off, shaking his head as he handed Violet off the Sam shortly to tug the car keys from his jacket pocket.

Once he opened the back door, Dean practically snatched Violet's body away from Sam's hands and gently set it down in the back seat. He shrugged off his leather jacket and laid it on top of her shivering form.

"Hey, Sam, get the burning kit, would ya?" he ordered, tossing the keys to his baby brother who caught them skillfully in his outstretched hand.

"Sure," was his simple reply as he popped the trunk open.

Dean pretended to lean over Violet and straighten out the jacket, even though it didn't need any fixing up. He sighed, pausing and scanning her face, his expression softening. At first he thought this girl was a joke, not someone worth paying much attention to or getting attached to. He bet that she wouldn't last two jobs with them before dropping out and saying that it was too scary. Now, though, his bet had changed entirely. He had seen the genuine, pure fear in her eyes and it scared him. Sure, he'd scared the hell out of her before, but that wasn't true terror. She had just experienced something that no one should ever experience and he felt the burden of guilt weigh on him.

It was his fault; he hadn't listened to her in the stairwell or simply let her pass. If he had done that, maybe he'd be in her place right now, but instead he'd be conscious since he was stronger and more experienced in things like those. She was a rookie; a rookie of rookies. A newbie, an innocent girl who got dragged into this supernatural nonsense in the worst way possible. If she woke up unchanged it wouldn't be such a heavy burden to bear, but he had heard with his own ears that the ghost had done some things to her, so Dean was scared. If she woke up and was traumatized or had something different about her, he would feel the guilt in his stomach form like the cold pit of a peach.

And he had to admit that she was actually quite pretty. Which made things harder for him. Ugh.

"Alright, got it," Sam declared, walking up to Dean's side and holding his armful of objects up. "Ready to finally put this guy to rest?" Sam asked as Dean closed the car door, locking it and turning to his brother. He nodded his head sharply before starting to walk away with long strides.

"More than ready," he replied, his face expressionless but determined.


	4. That Creeping Feeling

**Chapter** **Four**

They went back into the house and up the stairs, going back into the hidden bookshelf room where the ghost had done his experiments. Dean almost winced when he remembered her agonizing scream as he looked at the chair she had been strapped to. It seemed to echo in his mind sickeningly. He shook his head, trying to erase the memory but failing miserably.

Sam found the ghost's remains in a large desk drawer meant for files and folders. Apparently the man had stuffed himself in there because his dear old mother told him to when some thieves ransacked their house. They ended up hanging his mom in that very room, just above the desk on a thick nail in the wall. Evidently Violet had looked an awful lot like his mom so he greedily snatched her away and did some things to her. Scientifical mumbo-jumbo, if you asked Dean, but he remembered Sam saying something about memory alterations, which made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

They salted the hell out of his dried up bones and poured some gasoline on them, and to top it off, they threw a lit pack of matches in with it all too. The flames hungrily consumed the remains and as soon as the fire had died down, Dean was already heading back for the car.

He wasn't sure how to explain the sudden desire to watch over Violet. He didn't know why he abruptly felt that cared for her so much. He wondered, too, if maybe she cared for him but wouldn't show it because she was afraid he would ridicule her. But then he would stop himself and think "why the hell am I thinking this stuff?" and move on, shaking his head in confusion.

She was still unconscious when they got back to the car and slid into their respective seats, Dean in the drivers' and Sam in the passengers'. They both looked back at her, twisting around before glancing at each other.

"Do you think she'll be alright?" Sam voiced Dean's exact thoughts, although he wouldn't admit it out loud.

"I…Sammy, I dunno. I hope so," Dean murmured in response, gazing back at Violet's face.

He turned back around to face the steering wheel as the car roared to life when he twisted the key in the ignition. The engine rumbled, purring like a panther stalking its prey as he pulled a u-y and drove down the dirt road until it connected to a paved one. Silence took over the three humans inside the black beast, but it wasn't an awkward kind of quiet. It was a comfortable silence, like the ones that happen when each person is engrossed in their own separate thoughts.

Suddenly a thought dawned on Dean; a disturbing thought, but one he was darkly curious about nonetheless. He sighed, tagging a small grunt at the end of it.

"So, Sam, what do you think that guy did to Violet? You said something about mind alterations...what do you think he did to 'alter' her brain?" Dean asked, momentarily turning his eyes away from the road to glance at his brother.

"Well, uh, in his files - of the ones I could actually translate correctly - it said something about using some weird method to get inside someone's mind. He scribbled down that it didn't hurt almost at all, but...we kinda know that it hurts more than a little." Here Sam paused to glance nervously back at Violet's unconscious form sprawled in the back seat. "What else? Like, did you find out what he gets in there and does when he's screwing around in people's heads?" Dean asked, already feeling a chill creep up his spine. He knew he wasn't going to like the answer and yet he asked anyway. Vicious, that curiosity is.

"From what I could make out, it said that after he got into the victim's mind he would rearrange memories and even erase some. But, before his mother died, he used to use it for good. Like if someone came to him asking to forget a certain memory, like a lost loved one or something that the person wanted gone from their minds, he would find it and erase it just like they asked." Sam paused looking out into the black that blanketed everything. "Sounds like he used to be a nice guy...it's really too bad..." he finished sadly before sighing.

Meanwhile, Dean's mind was far from eased. It resembled a whirlwind of questions unanswerable at the moment, concerns that he hoped would turn to relief, and pure confusion.


	5. Uncertainty

**Chapter Five**

The drive home was stretched out by the quiet in the car, and no matter what kind of silence it was it felt like it prolonged the journey back. Sam had found peace of mind enough to fall asleep against the window and Dean envied him for it. He knew that he wasn't going to be able to sleep well tonight - even if Violet woke up before then - because he could feel in his gut that something wasn't going to be quite right when she did. Oh, how he wanted to deny it and shove off the guilty burden and the sense that something bad was going to happen, but no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't do it.

Dean was still warring with himself in his head 3 hours later when they finally found a cheap motel with a vacancy. He took care of all the arrangements, allowing Sam to sleep a little longer because he knew that he needed it. Dean needed sleep too, but he knew as a fact that it would be incredibly elusive in the coming night.

Dean pulled up in the empty parking space and killed the engine. He simply sat in the seat for a few seconds before giving into the urge to look at Violet. He spun on the upholstery, glancing over at Sam to check and make sure he was still slumbering. A few light snores escaped his parted lips, so Dean was reassured.

Violet was extremely pale, even for her, which made her pink lips stand out against her paper white skin. Her lips were parted too and Dean could hear her slow, deep breathing in the quiet of the Impala. His jacket had shifted down on her body so that he could see (and noticed for the first time) some bruising on her neck and shoulder under what was left of her shirt. The ghost must have shredded her tee, but Dean couldn't think of a reason why. He shortly considered the possibility that Violet had given him a great struggle while dragging her away and so ripped her shirt up until it was almost unrecognizable, but he dismissed it. Unless, he thought, maybe in her sheer panic she fought to get away like she was fighting for her life, which, he thought, was likely, but not very.

He sighed and turned back forward, smacking Sam in the face to wake him up. "Rise and shine Sammy!" he grunted, unlocking his door and getting out. Sam made some odd noises as he came back from the land of Nod and yawned, popping the lock on his own door and opening it with a screechy creak.

"I'll get Violet, you get our crap," he just short of commanded Sam as he stretched, shaking sleep from his eyes.

"Okay," he mumbled, still not completely through the waking up process. Dean opened the left backseat door and collected Violet in his muscled arms, sliding one under her knees and the other under her shoulder blades. Her head lolled onto his chest which made him look down at her and he was suddenly struck by how beautiful and fragile she was. This in turn produced another pang of guilt and it reverberated through every molecule of his being.

With skill he didn't know he had, he managed to unlock the motel room door with Violet still in his grasp. Kicking it open farther, he shuffled in sideways, making sure that she didn't hit her head or feet on the door frame. He stopped for a second before the two beds and wondered how the sleeping arrangements were going to work. That motel had been the only one with a vacancy and he had already tried three before it, so he took the chance to actually have a room tonight without caring about how many beds were in it.

Now he wasn't so sure about that. He stood before the two blanket covered mattresses with Violet still held limply in his hands, hesitating as he thought. He did not, under any circumstances, want to share a bed with Sam, for personal and obvious reasons. Sure he'd be perfectly fine sharing one with the beauty in his arms, but if she woke up he didn't have any idea how she'd take it. She probably hates me, he thought, finalizing his quick decision. I'll sleep on the floor tonight, if I manage to catch some shut-eye at all anyway, he mumbled in his head as he began to walk over to the bed on the left.

Suddenly he heard a sharp intake of breath and a scream. Violet looked up at him with extremely confused and scared eyes as she began struggling like a fish on a hook to try and get away from him. He almost dropped her onto the floor she was twisting around so bad. He nearly lost his grip on her but he made it over to the bed and threw her onto it before she fell to the ground.


	6. Wrong

**Chapter** **Six**

"Who the _hell_ are you? And what am I doing here? I swear I will kick your pretty boy ass if you don't tell me what the hell is going on!" she screeched at him, springing to her feet on the bed and getting into a fighting stance. He almost laughed at her pose but the desire to was overridden by how serious she was when she spoke.

She could never, _ever_ bluff that well in her entire life. Not without making a face that gave her away or trying hard not to laugh. Anger had burst into flame in her eyes and she looked as if she was trying to make Dean spontaneously combust with only her glare.

Normally, coming from her, this wouldn't have fazed Dean.

But…he was genuinely terrified.

Not of her fighting stance, no; he knew he could take her down with one swing. He was terrified that she didn't know who he was. She'd known him for a good few months and she suddenly _forgot_ him? No way in hell. At least not without supernatural involvement.

He abruptly felt like he had been hit smack in the face with 2x4. "Damn ghost!" he muttered harshly while running a hand over his face just as Sam flew through the doorway.

"What? What's going on? I heard a scream. Violet! You're awake! Dean, what did you do to her?" he spoke in a hurried voice, first the tone was worry which quickly melted into relief, then into suspicion as he rushed over to her. Violet's expression softened when she saw Sam, jumping down off the bed and into his arms. He hugged her for a second before pulling back and smiling at her. She smiled back up at him like he was the sun who had just come out after a weeklong of miserable rainy days.

Dean felt the odd sensation of jealousy roll through him like a wave and it made him want to throw up while watching Sam and Violet.

"Oh, Sam, finally someone I know! Who is that man over there? Do you know him? What was he doing holding me? I was so scared, where were you?" She pouted at him and glanced over at Dean at the mention of him.

Oh hell no, she can't forget me, Dean thought. I won't let her. "Sam, can you come here for a second? I gotta talk to you. _In private,"_ he accentuated, throwing dagger glares in Violet's direction. She crossed her arms roughly over her chest and threw knives back, although this time he wasn't as scared of her gaze. Sam walked over to him with a confused expression etched on his handsome features.

"Yeah, what's up? I mean, aside from the bizarre fact that she doesn't remember who you are."

Dean sighed and looked over Sam's shoulder at Violet but quickly looked away. "That's what's up. I mean, how could she forget me? Of all people. There's no way she hit her head _that _hard while we were looking for her. There isn't any bruising or sign of trauma. It had to be that ghost. When he zapped her with his laser fingers he erased her memory of me. For what reason, I don't know, but we need to figure it out. I'll go get your computer; you're doing research on this." Dean ended his speech with a finger pointed at Sam's chest before he stomped out of the room past Violet to retrieve the computer.

Sam shrugged at Violet when she approached him. "That's Dean, my brother. You seriously don't know who he is?" he asked her, concerned at how close she was getting. He scooted away slightly and hoped she didn't notice.

"No, Sammy, I don't remember him. He's your brother? I suppose you two look alike. You're still the handsome one though." She grinned while stepping tauntingly close to him.

Okay so, Sam thought the hug was a little strange, but passed it off as the momentary feeling of relief Violet had from just waking up from fainting. But this? These…advances? She hadn't shown _any_ interest in Sam before she met that ghost, not like this. He remembered that he read something about the ghost rearranging memories, but…could he create and twist them too?

This was bad. This was very bad. She took one last step to close the distance between their bodies, as he had been strategically backed up into a table. She grinned mischievously.

"I've missed you Sammy. So very much. Want me to show you how much?" she whispered hotly into his ear as he jumped at the feeling of her hand on his chest.

"I-I…uh…" he stammered, at a loss for words.


	7. Unusual Behavior

**Chapter** **Seven**

Suddenly every logical and reasonable thought was dashed from his mind and he fought vainly for control. Her hand had slid slowly down to the top of his jeans and her fingers were playing with the button. Her other hand grabbed his in hers and put it under her shirt on her hip – he didn't have enough willpower to remove it from the soft, warm flesh.

"What, are you playing shy?" she whispered, moving his hand up further until his thumb brushed her lacey black bra, which he could already plainly see through her shredded shirt. She didn't seem to mind that both Dean and Sam could see this, but he didn't think any more of it when his guided hand touched the bottom of her breast under the material. He bit back a groan, clamping his eyes shut, still fighting for control. He was clutching to the only slim shard he had left and he knew if she kept doing what she was doing, he would lose it completely.

Part of him wished Dean would come back already, but the other part, the darker part of him wished he would stay away just a little longer. He had to admit, but only to himself in his mind, that he had had some sexual fantasies that included Violet. Every time she came up in his head like that he had tried to push it away, but something else always made the thoughts stay.

She popped the button on his jeans, her fingers lightly brushing the sensitive skin just beneath it. He sucked in a quick gust of air, closing his eyes harder as he felt the shard slip through his grasp.

"C'mon Sammy, let's play a little game," she murmured against the hot skin of his neck, trailing her lips up to his jaw. She kissed his cheek then his chin and hovered her lips over his own, smiling. "It's called naughty or nice," she paused, still hovering. "Now you get to tell me if I've been_ naughty _or nice. Let me begin…"

The shard was nowhere to be seen.

She suddenly crashed her lips into his and he hungrily kissed her back, his hand roaming underneath what was left of her shirt. Her fingers danced around his waist, caressing farther and farther down until he couldn't take it anymore. His desire to have her was almost too much.

She was just beginning to tug his shirt off when they heard a loud slamming noise.

"Sam? Really?" Dean's gruff voice came from the doorway to the room. He was staring in disbelief at the pair as Sam hastily pulled his shirt back down, pushed her away and rapidly buttoned up his pants.

Dean walked over to Sam, watching Violet as he approached him with the laptop and a fast-food bag in hand. "Research. Dinner," he said in two simple words, handing both things to Sam with a blank expression. He brushed past him, bumping Sam's shoulder as he went into the bathroom and locked the door. A minute or two later, the sound of a shower was heard through the thin walls.


	8. Memory Alterations

**Chapter** **Eight**

Sam sighed heavily and sat down at the little table with the laptop and bag of burgers. He opened both the laptop and the bag of food, gesturing to it awkwardly and looking at Violet.

"Uh, dinner?" He failed at speech. He realized this and turned his attention back to the computer screen and sandwich held in his hand.

Violet got up from her seat on the bed and sauntered over to the chair across from Sam, sitting it in and smiling at him like nothing awkward had happened. He sighed deeply and chewed on his burger, trying to avoid looking at her at all costs. His plan didn't work, as she grabbed his open hand sitting on the tabletop. He snatched it away, shaking his head when he saw her hurt expression.

"Violet, what the hell did that ghost do to you? You're a completely different person now. I hope we can figure out how to reverse it, because...I think I liked the wimpy, scared and uninterested you better." She blinked at him in confusion.

"Sammy, what do you mean? What ghost?"

Sam groaned. "Crap, he erased that, too." She looked at him like he was crazy, but dismissed it with a wave of her hand.

"Anyway, this is the new and improved me. I am so much better than I was before." Here she pouted exaggeratedly at him. "I'm hurt that you don't like it, Sammy."

He looked back at the computer screen and began tacking out words in the search bar.

"Okay, um, would you stop calling me that? Only Dean can use that name and even he uses it sparingly," he asked tonelessly, suddenly becoming indifferent towards her.

"Ah yes, Dean, your brother, right? Mm. What's his problem anyway? Did his girlfriend just break up with him or something?" she asked while picking at the dirt under her sharp fingernails.

"No, but I think a girl just unknowingly hurt him," Sam murmured in reply, earning himself another confused glance complete with the single raised eyebrow.

"Okay, way to be vague," she muttered, finally figuring out that Sam didn't want to talk to her anymore. She got up and said something about being tired before falling onto one of the beds and curling up in the comforter.

Sam sighed in relief, finally able to think and research in peace and quiet. He kept hitting dead ends though, making him frustrated until he spied the three glorious words "ancient Swahili legends." He smiled in triumph at the information he had luckily stumbled upon.

Five odd minutes later Dean reappeared in the main room, squeaky clean, but only on the outside. He was more relieved than he'd say that he didn't walk in on Sam and Violet all over each other again and was even happier that she was dead asleep. Then he spied Sam scrolling quickly down a page on the laptop and walked over to the table he was sitting at.

"So?" he grunted expectantly, grabbing the chair to twist it around and sit in it backwards. "Whattaya got?" he asked as he swiped a burger from the crumpled food bag.

Sam looked at him and smiled, then started spewing information.

"Okay so get this: the whole "getting inside people's heads and screwing around with memories" thing is an old Swahili legend. The creature is called "kusahau," a word derived from the Swahili term "ili kumfanya mtu mmoja kusahau" which means "to make one forget." The powers that the ghost had lined right up with the legend." Sam kept smiling at Dean. He gave him an odd look.

"Why are you smiling at me like that? It's creeping me out." Sam laughed, and then continued.

"Dean, I was wrong. I translated incorrectly. When I said he could erase memories, I wasn't right. He _saves_ them in this special container." Sam continued to look giddy with joy like a child at Christmas.

"And this means what exactly?" Dean asked, chomping on his burger.

"Dean, we can get the old Violet back! The one who remembers who you are and doesn't want to screw me," he finished blithely.

Dean wouldn't admit it, but he loved the sound of that. He didn't let the extreme joy that welled up inside him leak out to his face.

"So do you know where this 'container' is kept?" he asked, taking another bite out of his sandwich. Sam hesitated before replying.

"No, uh, no, I don't know where it is. But I have an idea where it might be." Dean paused mid-chew and gave him a look. Sam sighed and quickly tried to reassure him. "Dean, all we have to do is go back to that old house and search it. I'm sure we'll find it somewhere." Dean, still paused, gave him yet another look.

"How do you know we'll find it there? Huh?"

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out as he struggled for words. "I, uh…it's…um…instinct?" he stuttered weakly. Dean scoffed at him.

"Yeah, right, instinct." He sighed, setting down the burger on the crackling wrapper. "All right, so suppose your 'instinct' is right, suppose we _do _search the house and find this special 'container.'" He titled his head at Sam, his eyes betraying his belief that this could work. "What do we have to do to get Violet back to the Violet we know and love?" Sam smiled at him, catching his air of curiosity coupled with hope.


	9. The Scheme

**Chapter** **Nine**

Sam had swiveled the laptop so that it was facing Dean, letting him take in all the information that Sam had found. After Dean was done scanning the pages, he pushed the laptop away and looked at Sam.

"Sounds like our man and our legend. But…" He got up from his backwards chair and walked over to the bed, stretching before plopping down on its edge. "You still haven't told me how we've got to do the memory transfer and all that. The info on the web didn't tell me either." He gave Sam a suspicious glance and waited for him to explain.

"You're right, the information didn't say anything other than that you could reverse it. They didn't elaborate on the 'how.' But I have an idea that might work if we-"

"An idea? An idea, Sam? Something that _might_ work? What happens if it doesn't, huh? We need something more solid than an idea," Dean cut him off, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees, his face stern and somber. Sam rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Dean, please, just trust me on this one. I'm pretty sure I know how to do it." He stared right into Dean's hazel eyes and Dean stared back.

After a few minutes of a seemingly never-ending staring contest, Dean broke the electric silence that had formed between them.

"Okay, so what exactly is this idea of yours? I'm not saying yes or no until I know what we would be doing." Dean continued to stare into Sam's eyes.

"Well…" Same began, sitting back in his chair and pondering quickly over the process he had formed in his head. "I was thinking since that guy had weird zappy fingers when he was extracting the memories and messing around with them, then we should reenact the zappy fingers when we give her the memories back. Meaning, we'd need an electric jolt or something like that. To 'shock' her, so to speak, in helping her remember and receive the memories. The jolt could probably be as little as someone touching her with some generated static electricity; just enough to make her jump, to shock her," he finished, waiting for Dean's protest.

Dean was quiet for a long time and Sam wondered if he had spaced out during his explanation.

"Shock her, huh?" Dean repeated, blinking at Sam as his eyes narrowed. "Why an electric jolt? Why not scaring the bejeezus out of her?" Sam was surprised he hadn't jumped up and started pacing the room, yelling at Sam about putting Violet in danger. "Well because, the ghost didn't scare her when he was taking out the memories, he was using an electric jolt somehow." Sam shrugged his wide shoulders. "Got any better ideas?"

Dean pondered this for a second or two before responding. "No, but I think yours might work well enough." He sighed before putting his head in his hand and rubbing his temples. "So, in order to get her back to normal we would need to go back to that house, find her memories and shock them back into her brain?" Dean summarized, looking back up at Sam with an eyebrow raised.

"Mm, yeah." Sam replied unenthusiastically, nodding his head.

"How can we generate some strong static electricity and when are we leaving?" Dean asked, but it sounded more like a demand. Sam smiled, as this was Dean's way of agreeing with his idea.


	10. Dean's Method of Research

**Chapter** **Ten**

A bit of shut-eye, a few pages of research and an upholstered chair later, Sam, Dean and Violet were sitting comfortably in the Impala, on their way back to Mr. Noseless' ramshackle house. Violet kept asking where they were going, but to be on the safe side – i.e. in case the ghost had put twisted memories into her head about that place – they didn't tell her where they were headed. They simply replied that they were in the wandering state, in the middle of looking for another job. Finally she shrugged her shoulders and looked uninterestedly out the window, her ragging coming to an end. The Impala was once again consumed in silence.

Three odd hours later, they rolled up in front of the old house, leaving a giant dust cloud on the dirt road behind them as they came to a stop.

"We're here!" Dean exclaimed with more joy than he seriously meant, adding a sarcastic twist to it. Violet stepped out of the car warily, studying the house with a nervous expression.

"I thought you guys said we didn't have a new job," she said, gulping audibly. Dean and Sam quickly exchanged confused glances. Dean summoned Sam over to him and they turned their backs on Violet who was still staring at the house.

"What's that all about? Do you think that guy put some really bad memories in her head about this place or do you think she's still a wimp?" Dean asked hurriedly, glancing up at Violet who still had her eyes glued to the shutters just barely hanging on to the house.

"Uh, I dunno. She acts like she's scared of the place just by looking at it, but I can't be sure whether it's because she's still a wimp or if he purposely made her terrified of his house." Sam and Dean shrugged at each other.

"Well, either way, she still has to get up to that room," Dean resolved, beginning to walk away. Sam nodded.

"Let's get this party started!" Dean shouted, cocking the sawed off shotgun he was holding. Sam had grabbed the upholstered chair and was heaving it towards the front door. Violet had still been standing rooted to the spot, gaping at the aged, cracked wood. "Violet! C'mon girl, get over here and get loaded up," Dean barked, startling Violet out of what almost seemed like a trance.

"Uh yeah, coming," she replied awkwardly, fast walking to the trunk of the Impala.

She kept glancing nervously over her shoulder as she approached the car like the house was going to come alive and eat her. To be utterly and irrevocably mean, Dean decided he'd scare her himself. She was almost to the Impala when she looked over her shoulder again and as soon as her head came back around, Dean swiftly moved in front of her and yelled, "HEY!"

She jumped a few feet in the air, leaving Dean to laugh so hard that he was bent over, with hands on his knees just to keep him from falling.

"So _NOT_ funny, Dean!" she shouted at him, standing with her arms crossed over her chest and her face redder than a beet. Once the uncontrollable part of his laughter was over he stood up and smiled exaggeratedly at her.

"Was too, princess." He chuckled to himself and grabbed another sawed off out of the trunk, throwing it to her. She was surprised as she caught it, almost spinning it out of her hands and dropping it. She hmphed and turned on her heel, making her way to the house with – he knew – more confidence than she really had. He shook his head and slammed the trunk closed, still chuckling.

Sam had just come to the door when Violet brushed past him, almost running him over as she stomped into the house. His eyebrow rose at Dean as he approached. "I heard her scream. What did you do this time?" Sam asked, hooking a thumb in the direction of Violet. Dean smiled widely and proudly.

"I scared the bejeezus out of her. It was very entertaining." Sam gave him a disapproving look. "What? I was testing out my theory. Scaring the bejeezus out of her doesn't work, so now we know it's an electric jolt." He smiled at Sam and passed by him, shotgun in hand. Sam rolled his eyes as he followed.

The two brothers caught up with Violet shortly and they were surprised at her stance. She was straight as an arrow, holding the gun in shaking fingers and aiming it at a closed door. Her eyes flickered over to Sam and Dean before darting back to the closed, almost-off-its-hinges slab of wood and she pulled the trigger, screaming. Dean ran forward and wrenched the freshly shot gun from her grasp and stepped back away from her.

"What the hell was that for?" he yelled, staring into her scared eyes.

"I-I heard a noise and thought maybe it was a-a monster or something, maybe," she stammered, looking down at her feet to avoid Dean's heated gaze.

Sam and Dean exchanged looks before walking forward for the stairs, brushing past her. "I'll hold your gun, just stay close," Dean grumbled to her.

"Violet, don't be such a scapegrace, please. You could've accidentally hurt someone," Sam told her in a soft tone, much gentler than Dean's.

They trudged up the stairs, every other step creaking loudly as if the house was protesting against humans trespassing inside it. Violet was trembling out of her wits while they approached the moved bookcase and entered into the dark cobwebby room.

"W-why are we here again?" she inquired, clearing her throat to try and make herself seem more confident.

"Just to check things out. It'll only take a few minutes, I promise. If you want, you can go stand over in that corner to make sure nothing grabs you from behind," Dean told her, his head bent while he yanked drawers out of the desk in search for the container of memories. She seemed to think that what he suggested was a fabulous idea and so skittered over to the corner without another thought.


	11. Transformation

**Chapter** **Eleven**

Sam had begun searching everything else in the barren room and it didn't take him long before he came over to help Dean in looking through the desk.

"So? Found anything?" he asked hopefully, coming up behind his brother and peering curiously over at Violet in the corner. Her eyes were darting everywhere at every little noise and Sam wondered if she might have a heart attack if a rat scurried in front of her.

"Think I would've told you already if I had found something?" Dean asked back, leaving Sam to quickly raise his eyebrows in silent reply as he started shuffling through pages on the desktop.

A few minutes later, Dean elbowed Sam in the arm and held up a small box of little vials with weird neon blue things swirling around in them. Dean pulled out the one with a label on it that read 'Violet.' Sam took it from his fingers and examined it, his right eyebrow rising.

"This stuff looks like little blue hairs. How Harry Potter is that?" Sam muttered, looking back at Dean. "Well, now we've got her memories."

"Next, we get our Violet back," Dean murmured before going over to the upholstered chair. He sat down in it heavily, huffing a large sigh, making Violet look at him with a curiously weird expression. Sam held back a laugh as Dean began to fidget more than a normal person would, moving his body around on the material.

Sam peeled off the label as he walked over to Violet and held up the glass container, capturing her gaze.

"What is that?" she asked hesitantly, leaning back as he put it closer to her eyes.

"It's what we've been looking for," he replied as he heard Dean get up from the chair and carefully walk over to where they both were. Dean nodded at Sam as he approached, signaling to Sam to open the vial and he did so with quick, skilled fingers.

"What does it do?" she inquired suspiciously, her eyes narrowing and flickering from Sam to Dean and back. The brothers quickly exchanged glances.

"This," they replied in unison, with Dean touching his forefinger to her right temple, sending a minor shock into her brain just as Sam put the mouth of the vial against her left temple. She jumped from the jolt that worked through her whole body while the contents of the vial somehow slid through her skin and back into her mind. Her eyes rolled up into her head and her eyelids slid closed over them, her knees giving out and leaving her body to sink to the floor. Dean, surprised, hurriedly caught her before she hit the wood and she twitched in his arms several times before she was completely still.

Sam and Dean waited, unknowingly holding their breath until finally Sam broke the tense quiet.

"I-Is she alright? Did it work? What does fainting mean?" he murmured quickly, opening her eyelids and lightly smacking her face. No response.

"I don't know Sammy," Dean replied, his tone grave as he thought the worst.

"What…" Sam began, voicing the thought that was swirling madly in both their heads. "What if it didn't work?"

Suddenly Violet sucked in a gust of air, coughing and gasping like she hadn't breathed in a hundred years. Her eyelids snapped open and she blinked rapidly, taking in her surroundings. Dean and Sam once again held their breath, waiting for her to say something, waiting and hoping that it would be their Violet who spoke.

"Dean!" she exclaimed hysterically, throwing her arms around him and hugging herself to him. Then she realized who she was hugging and let go quickly, staggering awkwardly to her feet, a slight blush creeping across her cheeks. She stood, tipping to one side and putting a hand to her head as Sam grabbed her upper arm to steady her.

"Sam," she breathed with what could only be relief, smiling as she embraced him shortly.

"Violet?" Dean asked, making her turn to face him. She blinked at him.

"Yeah?"

He looked deep into her eyes, searching, trying to find something in them to confirm that it really was the Violet he knew. His green eyes flitted back and forth between her deep brown ones. Abruptly he stopped and smiled, pulling her into a hug and breathing her name. Overcome with astonishment, it took her a few seconds to realize that Dean was actually hugging her of his own will and when she did, she embraced him back.

"Dean," she whispered, sighing.

As he pulled back, Violet patted both brothers on their shoulders and smiled.

"Man I missed you guys," she murmured, involuntarily tipping back a little as her eyelids fluttered, threatening to fall closed. Dean pressed a hand to the small of her back to keep her from falling. A confused expression consumed Sam's handsome face.

"You missed us? What do you mean?" he asked as he set the empty vial down on the desk.

"Yeah. I…I'm not sure how it all happened, but one moment I was sitting in a chair, terrified for my life and the next I was in a white room. I didn't know where I was, but it felt oddly familiar…for some reason I keep thinking I was somehow locked inside my own mind."

She shrugged and waved her hand as if to banish the words away. "I know, it's weird, but anyway, I feel like I was there for a long time. Since I had no way to tell the time, I have no idea how long I was 'gone.'" She blinked up at Sam. "How long have I been out? Or whatever happened to me," she asked, cocking her head to the side. Sam sent Dean a worried glance.

"It's only been a day or two, Vi," he replied.

"Hm, that's weird. Well whatever, I'm back now," she said, smiling warmly. Dean smiled back at her. Yes, he thought, this is the Violet I know.


	12. Meet My Guardian Angel

**Chapter Twelve**

Dean turned around to start getting ready to leave when he exclaimed a curse in surprise. "God, Cas! Quit doing that!" he shouted before taking in a deep breath.

"Sorry, but it is urgent. You must leave this house now," Castiel spoke in his monotone voice. Violet looked nervously at Sam then Dean before returning her gaze to Castiel. He handed Dean a knife with peculiar markings on it. "You may need this. Now go." Sam went to grab the upholstered chair. "Leave it! You must go now. You are in danger," Castiel demanded. He had been talking about the whole group when he said the last sentence, but his eyes were trained intensely on Violet.

She blinked and suddenly he was gone. "Whoa," she murmured, her brow furrowing before Dean grabbed her arm to drag her out the door, as she hadn't been moving.

"I'll make sure you don't fall," he said, quickly grabbing the two shotguns he had brought up. Sam swiped his from its spot by the entrance and they all filed out of the room. Violet tripped and her head almost collided with the wall, but Dean heaved her back up. "Screw this," he muttered and hoisted her onto his back. "Sorry princess, but you can't walk worth crap."

They thumped down the stairs, making their way to the exit as quickly as they could. Just as they were about to reach the front door, however, Violet suddenly screamed in Dean's ear and he felt her weight get lifted off of him. He only had time to turn his head before he got launched backwards against a wall. His back slammed into it and he felt pain creep up his spine. He gritted his teeth against it and peered around as much as he could to see that both Violet and Sam were pinned the same way he was.

Slow, clacking footsteps met their ears as they saw a particularly tall red head walk out of the room that Violet had shot at earlier. A smirk was curled into her lips as she tapped forward towards the three trapped humans. She blinked once and her entire eyes went black as tar and Violet gasped.

"Demon." "Hell-bitch."Sam and Dean breathed simultaneously, almost groaning. Violet's mouth was agape as she watched the lady glide forward, coming very close to her.

"Bingo," the woman answered, smiling and blinking again, her eyes suddenly back to normal as if she had simply wiped away the blackness.

"What do you want?" Dean asked – practically demanded - in a gruff, take-no-crap tone. The lady smiled again, an evil, greedy smile and it made Violet scared. The red head's eyes flickered to Violet and the look she gave her made Violet think that she wanted to eat her, just gobble her up.

"The girl," she replied smoothly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Oh and that pretty little knife you like to cut my brothers up with. I'll be taking that, too," she added, clacking over to Sam. She brought up one finger and caressed his cheek, running it down his jaw and underneath his chin. "You two are a handsome pair. I would hate to have to carve you up and waste those pretty faces," she hissed, stepping back from Sam who was trying to get away from her touch, his face twitching is disgust.

"If you decide that you won't let me have her and the knife willingly, I'll kill you, take her by force and slip that knife from your dead bodies. But, if you decide that you want to keep your souls for a little while longer and hand her over without a fuss, I'll let you live. Oh and I won't harm a hair on her head." She raised her eyebrows, examining Dean's face closely. "Deal?" she asked, but it was more of a strong suggestion than a question.

"Why her?" Dean asked. The lady's eyes narrowed and the humans could see the little patience she had beginning to burn up, reaching its limit.

"Because. She's special."

Violet's brow furrowed and Dean and Sam looked over at her. "Anyway, the boss wants her ASAP, which means _now. _So, deal or no deal? Answer quickly, I haven't got all day," she commanded, her eyes scanning all three of their faces.

"No," Dean replied with confidence and simplicity all rolled into one short syllable. The red head's eyebrows rose.

"Oh? What was that, Winchester? Did you just say what I think you did?"

"Did I stutter?" he replied smartly to her question, asking one of his own.

"Hm. Dean, Dean, Dean…" she sighed with mock sadness. "When will you ever learn that you won't always win? You're helpless now, all of you. There's no possible way you can get out of my grasp, so why try to fight me when you can't?" She walked over to Violet and she flinched away from the red head's touch. "Hmmm…" she thought aloud, tapping a finger on her cheek as she caressed Violet's. "Maybe Dean just needs a little…prodding," she finished, an evil smirk creeping across her lips once again.


	13. Prodding

**Chapter** **Thirteen**

Suddenly the red head swung her open hand at Violet's face, causing a loud smack to resound from the impact.

"_Ow!"_ was all Violet managed to say in response to the blow. Dean struggled against the demon's invisible hold and ground his teeth in frustration.

"Bitch! You said you wouldn't hurt her!" Quickly she was in front of Dean, her face mere centimeters from his, but he didn't even flinch at her proximity.

"Oops, my mistake. Oh, but wait, you're the ones pinned down and I'm the one dealing the cards. I'm in charge here, hot shot," she spat, backing away and pointing both long, red painted fingers at her chest.

"Ya hear that Sam, she called me hot," Dean jeered, his lips curving into a half grin. The red head lunged forward and buried her fist in his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

"Who's the hot shot now?" she breathed in his ear, stepping back again. He wheezed, trying to gain back the air in his lungs that he had lost, his head hanging. Sam looked over at him, concerned. "Oh he'll be alright. It's really yourself you should be worried about," she said, smiling as she slowly sauntered forward, stopping directly in front of Sam. "Yes or no, Sam? Oh and learn from your brother's mistake, would you? His answer caused someone to get hurt and I'd rather not draw blood because I like my jacket," she drawled, patting his chest.

"No," Sam stated harshly, echoing his brother as he spat in her face.

"Agh! You two don't have _any _respect for those with power! And you don't seem to be too vexed at the people you put in danger with your decisions and actions, _hm?_" she growled, wiping her face with the back of her hand and stomping over to Violet. "You wanna play hard ball? Well I'm game. Maybe _this_ will change your minds," she snarled, concentrating on a fixed point on Violet's body. She put her hands up in the air in front of Violet, balling them into fists and twisting them opposite ways.

An awful snap shot through their heads as Violet yelped out in pain, biting back the scream that clawed at her throat. She didn't want to be a wimp anymore, especially not in front of Dean and Sam, so she used every fiber of her being to stop herself from crying and screaming. It almost didn't work, but she kept fighting the urges. At the same time, Dean seemed to regain his breath.

"_Damn bitch!_" he bellowed, straining against the red head's strong invisible grasp. He ground his teeth harder and looked up at the ceiling, but his eyes weren't focused on it.

"What did you call me?" she asked rhetorically, raging forwards and sliding the knife quickly from his pocket. "Watch your mouth Dean or I will _slice it off!_" she warned, putting the blade dangerously close to his face.

"Then do it, _bitch!"_ he replied without hesitation, glaring at her too-pretty face. She threw her arm back and swung it forward, about to chop off his lips when she suddenly stopped, the knife centimeters from his face. Her grip loosened on it, causing it to drop to the floor with a metallic clatter as her eyes and mouth were consumed by bright beams of light.

After a scream left her body, it sank to the floor in a heap, revealing the mysterious man from earlier. Dean, Sam and Violet fell from the wall simultaneously, dropping to their knees at the sudden release. Violet tried to catch herself on her hands when a jolt of excruciating pain shot up her arm, causing her to cry out involuntarily. As soon as Dean stood up he rushed to her side, picking her up from the left, her unhurt arm.

"Vi, I'm sorry. I didn't know Cas would take so long getting here. And I didn't think she would do that to you," he apologized before glaring at Cas and gesturing to her broken arm with his free hand.

"I am sorry. I was called to do some other things and didn't know I would take as long as I did either. But now I am here." He spoke in monotone again as he walked over to Violet. His eyes made him look tired but somehow she knew he wasn't.

"Who are you?" she asked quietly to the approaching figure.

"I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord," he replied, much like a tape recorder, leaning towards her to place a hand on the shoulder of her broken arm. There was a cool sensation pooling around the shattered bone and it instantly felt better. He removed his hand and she hesitantly brought up her arm. It didn't hurt at all.

"Whoa…" she murmured in wonder, examining her arm.

"I am sorry Dean, but I must take her somewhere safe right now. You will meet us there. Here is the location." Cas handed Dean a small slip of neatly cut white paper. Dean's eyes quickly read the name of the hotel in the city and state, his brow furrowing.

"Why here?" he asked, looking back up at Castiel.

"Just go. See you there," he responded vaguely, turning to face Violet. "Time for us to leave." Without warning he touched two fingers to her forehead and Sam and Dean were nowhere to be seen.


	14. The Demons Have it Out For Her

**Chapter** **Fourteen**

"Damn it Cas. We finally get our Vi back and then you gotta take her to some obscure place that's 10-some hours away! What the hell, man?" Dean grumbled, packing up the trunk of the Impala.

"I'm sure Cas's got his reasons. Sounds like the demons want her and when the demons want something, they're gonna fight all they can to get it, hence his vagueness and randomness on where he's taking her," Sam explained, trying to reason with Dean on Castiel's behalf. Dean just grumbled something inaudibly, but Sam guessed it was either agreement or cursing Cas again. All the same he opened the passenger door with a creak and got in, situating himself and getting ready for the long ride to somewhere in Michigan, or so the slip of paper said.

Dean sighed as he slid in beneath the wheel, starting the Impala and revving her engine. "It's gonna be a long drive, baby," he whispered to her, patting the steering wheel tenderly before grasping it in his hands to begin the trek to Niles, Michigan.

Surprisingly the 10 hours went incredibly fast and Dean was thankful for that. He wanted to finally be able to sit down, put his feet up, have a beer and maybe get a good night's sleep for once. And to talk to Violet a little, just chat like they used to with the TV playing in the background and Sam's snores filling the room. He sighed and smiled sadly, hoping that they'd still be able to do that, even with all the things that have been going on.

He realized that he and sleeping beauty would be arriving at their destination soon and quickly swiped the paper from the dashboard to check and make sure it was the right place. Looking at the address and name, he found exactly what he was searching for in minutes. "The Golden Eagle motel in Niles, Michigan," he murmured, throwing the paper at Sam as he pulled up into the parking lot, loudly declaring their arrival. He rolled up into a random open space, assuming that Cas and Violet had already gotten room arrangements figured out. Sam groaned as Dean got out of the Impala.

"Where are we?" he asked groggily. Dean rolled his eyes.

"C'mon Sammy, we're here."

Violet poked her head out of one of the rooms a few doors down and instantly smiled at the pair of tired travelers. She briefly embraced the two of them, greeting them warmly and motioning them to come inside, as that was their room for the night too. Dean heard her twist the lock on the deadbolt, making it click while he made his way over to the bed he presumed was his. He tossed his bag onto it and tossed himself onto it as well, sitting up after he reveled in the fact that it was so incredibly soft.

"So, what's this big deal about the demons and Violet?" Dean asked the figure in the corner.

Castiel stepped out of the shadows and into the light of the lamp, his face more expressionless than usual, which Sam assumed meant super bad news. Cas's dark eyes darted over to Violet before they were trained back on Dean.

"You're not going to like this much, but you must be told, and sooner better than later," he began in his colorless voice.

"We don't need an intro, chuckles. Out with it. Cut 'n dry, just give it to us," Dean stated bluntly, his face also expressionless. Cas sighed a little.

"Somehow I knew you would say that. Anyway, this girl you call Violet is a cambion. Translation, she is offspring of a demon and a human, making her half demon and half human, but she is immensely more powerful than even both combined." Everyone's brow seemed to furrow in unison. Cas ignored this and continued.

"The demons want her very badly; why, I am not certain yet, but I know that she is a big part of something that they are planning. The only real and logical option is to kill her before they get their hands on her."

Dean suddenly jumped up and began pacing the room, objecting loudly to Castiel's proposal. Sam and Violet had disagreed with Cas as well, albeit they hadn't sprung to their feet.

"No, Cas, we are most definitely _not_ icing Violet. Not on purpose. Why would you even suggest something like that? No, just no. We'll think of something else," Dean protested firmly in response to Castiel's last recommendation. "Just let me get my head wrapped around this for a second…" he mumbled, pacing the room for the tenth time. "So, wait, you're telling us that _she_-" He pointed a finger at Violet. "Is half human and half demon and is more powerful than a demon or human even wishes they could be?"

Castiel nodded gravely. "She really cannot stay alive. It is extremely dangerous."

Dean looked at him, disbelief still etched on his face. "Her? I can't believe it. Violet is incredibly powerful." She smacked him in the arm as he thumped by, then went back to sporting her thinking, troubled face.

"It makes sense," she murmured, staring off into space as she pondered. "Although I'm not sure I remember anything weird happening back when I was younger. Like what powers do I have, Castiel?" she questioned the angel, looking up at him. "Well, I've only heard stories, as creatures like you are very rare. But you can tell anyone to do anything, for starters. You can magic things into being true. You can do a lot of things; I can't list all of them in one night even if I knew the extent of them," he answered somewhat vaguely.

"Hm. I can command people to do stuff? I never knew that. I guess I just never was the demanding type." She thought for a moment, blinking in thought. "Sam," she began, turning to look right at him. He instantly knew what she was about to do and put his hands up like he was at gunpoint, shaking his head.

"Oh no, you're not gonna command me to do anything. Please, Vi," he asked her pleadingly. She just smiled.

"It won't be that bad, I promise. I just want to test it out." She gave him a reassuring grin. "Here, easy one: Sam, poke Dean in the side." Sam walked over to Dean against his will, as it was apparent on his face, and poked Dean in his side with his pointer finger.

"That is bizarre!" Dean exclaimed, smiling at Violet's newfound – but always there – power.

"Sorry to ruin your fun, but we really need to kill her," Castiel stated in monotone.

"No way, Cas! We've already dismissed that idea. She hasn't gone dark side yet, she's still on her human side. If we keep a close eye on her and keep her straight maybe she won't turn demon-y. Killing her is not an option," he responded testily, scaring Castiel and Violet a little. Even though he was defending her she had never seen him so serious before. Castiel sighed heavily.

"As you wish. But if she turns, it will be your fault." Then, in the single blink of an eye, he was gone. There was silence in the room and no one moved until Violet stated the obvious.

"I don't think he likes me very much."


	15. Priorities

**Chapter** **Fifteen**

Shortly after Cas headed out, Dean went into town to scrounge up some halfway all right food and a 6-pack of beer. He returned to the motel victorious; one fast-food paper burger bag in one hand and a 6pk beer caddy clutched in the other. Sam and Violet attacked him like ravenous wolves that hadn't eaten for days and finally hit the jackpot.

Once everyone had gotten a few bites of food in their bellies, they lounged around the motel with the TV on but no one watching, each person enveloped in their own thoughts and worries.

"Violet," Dean began, breaking the quiet that had blanketed the room. He had her attention almost immediately.

"Yes, Dean?" she replied drunkenly, tipping sideways out of her chair. The three empty beer bottles on the table in front of her rolled off and joined her on the floor, clinking in happy reunion with the person they got shamelessly drunk. Dean and Sam rose eyebrows at each other, as they hadn't noticed how many she had grabbed from the mini-fridge.

"Well, I was gonna say that we should high tail it out to Bobby's tomorrow early morning and get you an anti-possession tattoo like the ones we've got, but you look like shit now and I'd imagine you won't look any better in the morning," Dean stated before taking a generous swig of his first unfinished beer.

"WhattayameanI'mlookin'like shiet?" she slurred. Sam even had a hard time understanding her.

"I think you need to go to bed Violet. Or at least get in the position you want to sleep in, 'cause as soon as your body says it's sleepy time, it's indefinitely sleepy time," Sam explained, giving her a sympathetic look.

She stared back at him like a deer stuck in headlights and he had just riddled off a line of Calculus problems he expected her to solve, her mouth hanging open awkwardly. But she did manage to understand the jist of what he was saying and crawled up into her bed, wrapping the blanket around her in a cocoon of cotton. Dean got up with a sigh and collected her beer-less bottles from the floor, setting them on the narrow counter by the sink. He walked past Violet's bed on the way back to his own and he smiled as he heard her deep breathing accompanied by an odd snore or two.

To Dean's gratification, Violet had found a double room attached by a door with one room containing two double beds and the other containing two singles. Violet had instantly told Dean - rather than suggested - that he would have one of the doubles and she would take one of the singles. She hesitated when she remembered that the rooms were divided, but Dean solved this problem when he heaved the two single mattresses through the door, setting them stacked directly opposite his bed. She smiled as a grateful and wordless thanks, as no words needed to be spoken between them about things like that. He just smiled in reply; he knew as a fact that she did not like sleeping alone. Even if Dean and Sam were one room over, she still didn't like it. He remembered when they had found her, the poor thing, on her front porch, with tearstained eyes and scared to death.

He pushed those sad and dark memories from his mind, telling himself that was a few months ago and definitely in the past. Those were not memories worth remembering for any aspect of them.

He rolled up into his own bed, haphazardly braiding his body with the blanket and enjoying the soft comfort the mattress gave him. He swore he'd sleep on that thing as long as he could because he knew that it might be a while until they'd find another good motel with nice beds like those. Hell, he knew it might be a night or two before he even gets to sleep in an actual bed again. Ah, the joys of being a nomadic supernatural beastie hunter.

Sam and Dean murmured goodnights, offering them to Violet as well, but Dean knew she was already zonked. Sam flicked off the light and the room was plunged into darkness. Minutes later, he was snoring. Badly.


	16. Dreams

**Chapter** **Sixteen **

Dean awoke with the sun blazing through the thin curtains and into his hazel eyes. He sat up and yawned, the dream he had during the night replaying vaguely in his mind's eye. His brow furrowed as it got to the climax and he shook the image from his head. It was of Violet; he had been forced to choose between loving her as a lover or a sister and frankly, he wasn't sure which one to pick. Loving her as a lover, a true lover, was an odd notion to him, something foreign and somewhat unrealistic. He quickly settled on the sister-brother relationship and for some reason was suddenly determined to keep it that way, at least until something happened, if anything didn't, or she told him something that changed his mind. He highly doubted it would change, but only time would tell.

"Rise and shine cupcakes, time to hit the road. We're already late," Dean declared, earning himself two stifled groans, muffled by pillows.

"What time is it?" Violet asked, rolling over with her eyes still closed and a hand on her forehead. Dean glanced at the clock on his nightstand as he walked over to his bag to grab some clothes to get ready.

"Seven thirty-two A.M. Hurry up, we've got another long drive ahead of us; we need to leave ASAP," Dean replied in his often used giving-orders tone. He heard Violet sigh before he closed the bathroom door and smiled; she'd be hung over terribly bad today.

Once everyone was all sorted out, packed and raring to go, they set out on the open road in the general direction of Bobby's house, Sioux-Falls-South-Dakota, some 11 hours away. Dean blasted some of AC/DC's "Highway to Hell" before Sam forcefully made him turn it down to almost nothing because of Violet's moaning in the backseat.

"Sammy, c'mon, you ruin all the fun," Dean whined. Sam gave him an 'I'm annoyed at you so you better stop what you're doing that's annoying me right now' look before gesturing to Violet in the backseat.

"She's got a headache Dean, I'm sure the last thing she wants to do right now is listen to AC/DC ringing in her ears." Dean looked at Violet in the rearview mirror.

"Hangover's; gotta love 'em." He smiled exaggeratedly at her and she stared blankly back at him. "Why did you get drunk last night anyway? There wasn't anything worth celebrating and not really any super depressing news, so why waste yourself so willingly? And locked up in a motel room too. Where's the fun in that?" he asked, training his eyes back on the pavement rolling underneath the tires of the Impala.

"Do I _need_ a logical reason to drink copious amounts of alcohol, Dean?" she groaned in response, shifting herself until she was lying down on the seat with Dean's leather jacket over her face. He shrugged with a 'touché' kind of expression. His eyes glanced back at her again in the rearview mirror.

"If you puke on that jacket or in this car I swear to God you will be riding on the roof to Bobby's."

And with that comment, the car was consumed by silence for a long time with only the low sounds of the cassette tape playing in the background and the constant whirr of the engine. Violet finally was able to fall asleep, despite the pounding of her head, and light snores could be heard drifting up from the back seat.

Dean had to stop to get some gas at an old could-pass-as-rundown gas station and he shook Violet's shoulder to wake her up.

"Hey sleepy, we're fillin' up. You want something?" Dean asked Violet as her heavy eyelids fluttered over her tired eyes.

"I'll take some crackers, whatever you can find. I gotta go to the bathroom, too," she mumbled groggily as Dean opened her door.

"Then get moving. I'd like to try and get to Bobby's before dark if you don't mind." She heard him walk over to the trunk, tell Sam something and pop it open while she slipped out of the backseat. She stretched, her back popping, and it actually made her feel a little better.

She walked with Sam into the gas station store, as Dean had given him a wad of credit cards to buy some snacks.

"Do you like car rides?" Violet asked curiously as they approached the glass door. Sam thought for a moment, opening the door for her to pass through before him. The bell hanging fron it jingled, signaling their entrance.

"Yeah, I guess. I mean you kinda have to like 'em with what we do, since we're constantly in the car riding around to jobs. It's like our house, almost," he replied evenly. "What about you?" He began grabbing at some bags of food.

"Oh, me? I love car rides. I dunno what it is about them; I just enjoy them a lot. I mean, without a pounding headache of course." She laughed lightly and Sam laughed with her.

While he got the rest of their refreshments, she moseyed over to the bathrooms, gagging at the rancid smell of bleach mixed with shit. She sighed at how pathetic and bedraggled they were, but used a stall anyway because she was pretty sure they wouldn't be stopping again till they got to Bobby's. She flushed the grimy toilet, kicking at the handle with her booted foot and making a disgusted noise.

"Bleh, that is nasty." She shuddered while walking over to the sink. She pooled the cool liquid in her hands and splashed some on her face, hastily shaking her fingers at the porcelain to dry them when she looked up into the mirror.

She gasped at what she saw, but didn't have enough time to scream.


	17. Possession

**Chapter Seventeen**

"Mm, she's a pretty one." Violet said, examining herself in the mirror. She adjusted her jacket and blinked the black away from her eyes before turning on her heel to find the Winchesters. Clomping out into the store area of the gas station she saw Sam at the register, paying for the gas and snacks. She figured she wouldn't have to deal with him unless he came outside, so she nonchalantly passed by and exited through the jingling door.

She felt her eye twitching a little bit and cursed under her breath, fearing that it may give her away before she could retrieve what she wanted. The eye twitching was odd, but she just blamed it on Violet being the human-demon mutt that she was. Dean looked up at her as she approached the Impala. "Ready to go?" He asked, slamming the trunk lid shut and taking out the gas pumper from behind the license plate. She nodded and smiled, her eye twitching. She prayed that he hadn't noticed it, but to her dismay, he had. His eyes narrowed as he slowly walked up to her.

"Vi, are you feeling alright?" He examined her face while she replied. He felt like something was off about her, but he couldn't place it. "Just peachy, Dean." She said, smiling darkly. His eyes widened, finally figuring out that the Violet he was talking to wasn't the Violet he thought. "Shit!" He cursed, jumping back behind the Impala and away from her. "Not fast enough, Dean." She tsked, flinging him inexorably back against the pump with the wave of her hand, watching his body thump to the ground.

"Dean, I heard a noise, what's-" Sam began, rushing out of the store and stopping on the sidewalk just outside the door. He cut himself off in midsentence to curse as Violet turned around and showed him her tar black eyes. He tried to run to Dean to see if he was okay, but she casually waved her hand again and he was launched back through the glass door of the gas station from which he had just come. It shattered and he didn't get up.

She shook her head, blinking away the black again as she sighed, disappointed. "You boys are easy. It's really too bad, I was looking for a bit of a fight. Haven't gotten much action lately." She smiled as she walked to the back of the Impala, stepping over Dean's body sprawled face down on the ground. Popping the trunk of the Impala, she leaned down to scan its contents for the knife that she desired.

"Right here, bitch." Dean muttered behind her. Before she could turn around or even gasp in surprise, he rammed the butt of the very knife she had been searching for against her head. She spun sideways, crumpling to the ground. Dean shook his head with an apologetic look gracing his handsome features as he bent to grab her body and hoist it up over his shoulder. "Sorry Vi, but you'll thank me later."

She woke up with her vision blurry and it took a few blinks for things to clear up, although what she saw she didn't like much. "Shit." She muttered, tugging at all the straps holding her fast against the wooden straight backed chair. Her eyes darted around the room and she found that she was inside a finely painted devil's trap in the back room of the gas station. "The boss is gonna kill me."

"Not if we do first." Dean growled, appearing with his brother from around a corner. "So you're awake. Good. We've got a few questions we'd like to ask." Dean told her, spinning the desired knife in his hands. Sam flipped open their Dad's journal and stopped on the page with the incantation for exorcism scrawled on it.

"You boys think I'm gonna talk?" She challenged boldly. Dean laughed but it was void of all humor as he walked over to the table situated diagonal from her. "As a matter of fact…" He began, leaning down to grab some jugs. He placed them heavily on the table and the demon's confidence took a steep dive. "We do."

The labels on the gigantic containers read "salt" and "water," and she could see a rosary floating around in it. _Crap crap crap, _was all she could manage to think while Dean hastily twisted off the caps of both. "First," He walked towards her with the holy water. "Why do you and your hell-bitch buddies want Violet so bad?"

She laughed dryly. "I see, so that's what you guys are after. The big 'why.' Well you won't get it from me; I don't know what the boss wants with her for." She replied, a smirk playing on her face. Dean swiftly splashed holy water on her and she screamed as if it was acid burning at her skin instead of harmless, colorless liquid. "Oh yeah? You don't know anything, right?" He tried, spraying her with more water.

"Okay! Okay okay, I know. Just stop, please." She gasped for air, her chest heaving like she had run a marathon. Dean stopped in mid-toss with the water jug. "Out with it, or you get another shower." He warned, pointing to the jug in his hand.

"The boss wants her because she's a cambion and she's damn strong." The demon confessed, but Dean wasn't quite satisfied with that answer. He sprinkled a few handfuls of salt on her and she yelped out in pain; it burned her like fire. "We already know that! But _why_? What is the master plan that you need her so badly for?" He asked her, utterly indifferent to her screams of agony.

"I can do this all day, cupcake. Don't make me pour this down your throat." He threatened, gesturing to the jug of salt clutched in his fist. Throwing more water combined with salt onto her already soaked body, she panted and wailed, not giving an inch. He gave Sam a look like he had no choice but to do what he was about to and advanced towards the demon's hunched figure. He tipped her head back and brought the jug to her lips.

"Wait! Wait wait, wait…I'll tell you...please anything…but that…" She wheezed, gulping pathetically for air. "Enlighten us." Dean commanded, his voice emotionless as he glared coldly at her. "Since Violet…is a cambion…Lucifer wants her by his side…as his Queen, I guess…So when he rises, they'll wreak havoc on the world together…twice as fast…" She spilled, panting as she spoke.

Dean and Sam exchanged worried glances. Dean dismissed it and sharply nodded his head, walking away while he screwed on the caps of the jugs. Sam cleared his throat and began reading the incantation off the page. A few harmless latin phrases later, the black smoke looked as if it was being sucked out of Violet's body by a powerful vacuum. It all rushed out of her and sank through the dirty floor, going back to hell from where it came and where it truly belonged.


	18. Postdemon Joyride

**Chapter** **Eighteen**

Loading the car up was easy; Sam grabbed the jugs and Dean grabbed the unconscious girl, setting them in their respective places in the Impala: water and salt in the trunk and Violet in the backseat.

Needless to say, they made a beeline straight for Bobby's.

For the majority of the trip Sam stared out the window, watching the trees zip past but not really paying attention to them. It wasn't until Violet groaned in the backseat and pulled Dean's jacket tighter around her did anyone speak. "Ah, she's awake. How do ya feel?" Dean greeted cheerily with a bit of genuine concern in his tone. Another groan was produced from the back seat as her reply while she shimmied down further to get more comfortable. "That good, huh?" Dean smiled. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Demon possession isn't the most fun thing out there, but you'll be fine in a day or two. Now we just need to get you tattooed up with an anti-possession stamp before another demon manages to find us again." There was a muddled response from the backseat, but it came through clear enough to be heard as, "okay." It wasn't too long after the one-sided exchange that soft snores could be heard emanating from the heap piled on the upholstery.

"You look better, Sam. How're you doing?" Dean asked his brother, glancing at him before concentrating his eyes back on the darkening road. Sam shrugged and shifted in his seat, clearing his throat. "Um, yeah, better, I guess. Getting catapulted through a glass door hurts a little, but luckily I didn't get any glass in my back. So now I'm just sore." He shrugged again. "I've had worse; I'll survive." Dean grinned and slapped Sam hard on the shoulder. "That's my Sammy."

A moment of silence followed, consuming the car in nothing but the constant familiar hum of the engine.

The dark sky continued to grow duskier as the minutes ticked by, night approaching much faster than Dean would've liked. His gaze was pulled to the dashboard clock, causing him to sigh heavily. "We're not gonna make it before dark like I wanted. At this rate, Bobby'll already be asleep. Maybe I should call him to let him know were coming…" That struck Dean as a good idea as he remembered several other occasions when he _hadn't_ called to warn Bobby they were going to storm down his front door and how cheerful Bobby had been when they greeted him unexpectedly.

He thought for a second.

"Yeah, better call him."

And so the phone call was made and Bobby was notified that they were coming to visit for a tattoo session. It only took a few seconds for Dean to explain to Bobby their dilemma and Bobby didn't argue with the fact that Violet needed a tattoo, especially after what just happened to her. Dean also made sure that it was alright that they could sleep over at Bobby's house for the night before they headed out again. To his joy, it was perfectly fine, but they'd have to sleep on the floor in bags and blankets.

He reasoned that it was better than sleeping cramped in the Impala.

"See you in a few hours," he finished, snapping his cell shut and tossing it onto the seat beside him. He put his foot on the gas pedal a little harder and continued the lengthy journey to Bobby's place in Sioux Falls, North Dakota.


	19. Not Quite Recuperated

**Chapter Nineteen**

No one spoke for the rest of the journey, as the majority of the car's passengers were asleep and one was sane enough not to talk to himself out loud. At least he thought himself sane enough, but one can't be too sure.

It was late and pitch black when the Impala rolled to a stop with a slight screech in front of Bobby's decrepit old house. "Wake up sleeping beauties, the both of you. We just need to carry a few things into the living room and then you can go back to your beauty sleep." He slapped his hand on Sam's chest, springing him from slumber with a jolt of surprise. Dean and his brother got out of the Impala and made their way to the trunk when Violet stirred subtly. Sam banged on the backseat window to coax her into consciousness. "C'mon, help us unload. You've slept enough."

She groaned and stretched simultaneously, sliding her arms through the roomy jacket's sleeves before vacating the car. Walking stiffly over to the two boys she blinked her eyes sleepily. "Alright guys, what can I-" Her eyelids slammed closed involuntarily and her knees buckled underneath her small body. She fell sideways with a soft thump on the dirt, her arms sprawled at odd angles and mouth open.

"Violet?" Sam and Dean both asked with concern at the same time, crouching down beside her body to examine her. They looked at each other and shrugged. "I guess she hasn't slept enough."

Dean hoisted her up over his shoulder and grabbed a few bags from the trunk. Sam managed to collect the rest of their belongings and slam the trunk shut to follow after Dean who was already almost to the front door. He knocked with the tip of his boot.


	20. Sweet Dreams for Only Two Thirds

**Chapter Twenty**

Bobby answered the door with an unpleasant expression on his face. Dean raised an eyebrow in question, but Bobby had dismissed it with a small wave of his hand.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked, tipping his head in Violet's direction as Dean laid her down on the couch.

"She had a killer hangover, and then got possessed at a shitty gas station. You could say she's had a rough day," he replied without looking at Bobby. Bobby's gaze slowly floated over Violet's face- pale, again - her small cherry lips slightly agape and delicate eyelids closed. Why did she have to get dragged into this mess, he thought, his frown deepening.

"You can go to bed now if you like, Bobby, we can figure out sleeping arrangements," Sam suggested, tossing the duffel bag onto the floor beside the couch. His eyes caught sight of Violet sprawled like a lonely lost doll whose owner had accidentally dropped. Poor girl.

Bobby nodded silently, his mouth a straight line below his subtly sagging nose and tired old eyes. "Night. See you in the morning," he muttered, turning and disappearing into the other room. Both Sam and Dean replied softly even though they knew he probably didn't hear them.

"We'll sleep on the floor in sleeping bags. Violet can hog the couch for the night," Dean commented, digging out said sleeping bags. He threw one to Sam who caught it skillfully, unrolling it neatly onto the floor in one swift flicking motion. Dean did the same and in short time, they were both snoring contently in their makeshift beds.


	21. Not So Sneaky

**Chapter Twenty-one**

Jerking awake with beads of sweat lining her thin black brows, she let out a breath she had unknowingly been holding. "Damn it…" she whispered, running a hand through her hair and frowning deeply. Tears had filled her brown eyes.

Quietly she stood up and danced on her toes over the sleeping men, drooling into their pillows. She paused for a moment at the door, her hand on the frame as she turned her head and examined the brothers. Determining that they were asleep and hadn't woken because of her, she slowly twisted the cold knob under her sweaty palm and slipped out into the clear night.

Dean's eyes flickered open and he stared at the dented ceiling before coming back to himself with a slow realization that he was indeed at Bobby's and not in a hotel. Sliding up on one elbow, he looked groggily around the room and took in his surroundings. That was when he realized Violet was gone from her spot on the couch.

He rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times before quietly getting to his feet. The first place he checked for the lost Violet was the downstairs bathroom, but once he found that she wasn't there, for some reason he instantly knew where she disappeared to. Instinct, he thought, as he shrugged his shoulders and made his way to the front door.

The knob was fresh with warmth and a bit of sweat, leading Dean to believe his suspicions were correct. He silently closed the door behind him and spotted her silhouette leaning up against the railing, hair in a messy ponytail and Dean's jacket hanging off her small frame. He sidled up beside her and mirrored her stance, glancing shortly at her face before setting his eyes on the yard Bobby's house overlooked.

"Hey," he began in an unconcerned tone, as if sneaking off at obscure hours in the morning and hanging out alone on the front porch was normal. Her gazed was pulled down at her hands clasped together, perched on the sagging wooden railing. "What's wrong? Something bothering you?" He tried at sympathetic, but it didn't work. He decided to stick with unconcerned until further notice.

"Nothing, just wanted to come out here to get some air and clear my head." She smiled over at him, eyes half-closed and arched with her lips pulled at the corners.

Somehow he knew it was a façade. She never smiled like that.

She went back to examining her balled up fingers.

"That is a load of crap, Violet." He turned toward her, one elbow on the railing as he tried to get her to make eye contact. She avoided his face altogether; another sign of a lie.

"Everything's fine, really. In fact I was just about to head back in-"

"Tell me the damn truth."

Their eyes met for an instant before she quickly tore her gaze away. He had called her on her bluff and she realized with defeat that she wasn't going to convince him otherwise.

"I can tell something's really bothering you. What's going on?" Dean asked her once again, adamant on getting the truth out of her. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes.

"I get nightmares, alright?" She wiped a hand down her face and her shoulders sagged forwards. "I have them almost every night, and it's of the same thing, always of the same exact thing." She opened her eyes and stared out over the lawn without seeing what was before her. "Of something I want so much to just forget." The words came tumbling softly out of her mouth, but Dean could tell she was hurting more than she let on.

After a pause, she continued in almost what could have been a whisper. "It's of that night, you remember? That night my family was…the night my family was slaughtered." Her head hung and she caught it with her hands. "It's so vivid, it's like I'm reliving it over and over and over again. A broken record, unable to stop, unable to forget…"

They stood there like that for a time, Dean feeling shocked and like he was just slugged in the gut and her quietly cradling her head in her small hands. He didn't know if she was crying. He had no idea how to respond to what she said. Standing there like an awkward statue, hesitant to comfort her or at least say something, he wasn't sure what to do. He was thankful when she started speaking again, but he hated what he heard come from her lips.


	22. Late Night Confessions

**Chapter Twenty-two**

"The real reason I drank so much last night was because drinking makes the nightmares go away, prevents them from distressing me," she confessed sheepishly, tugging at the tattered edge of the jacket. "That was probably the first whole undisturbed night of sleep I've gotten in a few weeks."

He felt sorry for her, truth be told, and he hated that she was so miserable with all these unnecessary burdens weighing on her shoulders. A woman her age shouldn't have those worries, those problems, but she does. He thought back on all the hotels they've been at and how much booze he's bought in the past. "You don't drink all that often, though. Not enough to get that hammered, anyway." She grimaced at his observation.

Her voice was so quiet, like she thought the slightest noise would wake the whole world up. "I've seen what it does to people and I don't like it. It disgusts me, so I try not to do it too often, but sometimes it just gets so bad…"

She sighed, yet another time, and Dean could tell by her expression and the way her eyes were concentrated that she was wrestling with the idea of telling him something else.

"Keep going; you need to get it out of your head," he coaxed her to continue. Her hesitation broke.

"I just…I hate that I feel so useless and weak when I'm with you guys. Like…I feel like I'm an oddball, an anchor, like I just make your job harder by simply being here and the only reason I'm here is out of pure pity. I keep trying to suck it up and quit being such an idiot about hunting monsters, but…I dunno. It's hard." She glanced over at him with confused eyes.

"I've noticed that you're, um, different when we're on cases concerning families, like you're almost a totally different person than the Violet I know. And I don't like that because I don't see the Violet I know; I see a fake Violet in her place," he noted, his voice suddenly feeling very loud in his head.

"Yeah, but it saves lives when I'm in that "mode" of Violet."

He sighed and his eyes trailed her face, locking on her eyes. "But Violet, it's not you. It might save other lives but it's killing yours. Quit trying to be something you're not, stop trying so hard to show us that you aren't useless, because we _know _you aren't even without the wall or "mode" or whatever." Her eyes began to well with tears that had waited so long to fall as she watched him intently, maintaining eye contact to its fullest.

"And you won't be scared forever. It does get better with every job you do. You know that all those supernatural sons of bitches try to scare the hell outta you for a reason, right? They try to paralyze you with your own fear so they can strike when you're weak. Just don't let them scare you, Vi. The first step to not being scared is to have confidence – real confidence – in yourself. Start there and it'll get better as you go." He turned and gazed up at the sky, leaning fully against the railing. She shifted to mirror him and sighed again.

"Trust me…I've been there," he finished quietly, continuing the stare at the stars winking down at them. A handful of glistening tears tumbled down her cheeks and she wiped at them, relieved. She felt so much better now that she'd told someone all that. She'd never confided in someone so much since before the accident, she noticed.

Breathing out a puff of air, she turned her body to face Dean. "Thank you, Dean." She smiled at him. He smiled back, spinning to face her as well.

"You're welcome. And there's that real smile." He thought she was going to say goodnight and brush past him to resume her sleeping ritual, but she surprised him by stepping forward and hugging him. He was in shock at first and wasn't sure what to make of it when he simply hugged her back. Her arms wrapped around him shortly, squeezed, and then she detached herself, waved with a whispered goodnight and slipped back inside.

He stood on the porch momentarily, trying to piece apart what just happened with a furrowed brow.

Bros and sis' hug, right?


	23. Antipossession Stamp

**Chapter Twenty-three**

Dean woke up bleary eyed, but he didn't feel the effect of lost sleep weigh on him. He rolled over to find that Sam was already up and around as well as Violet, making him feel like a bum even though the clock flashed 8:32 AM. Stretching and running through a list things to-do next, he made his way to Bobby's "office," or the room that Bobby spent most of his time in these days, researching like a mad man for the Winchester boys.

Bobby was sitting in his chair, wiping the tattooing needle clean. "Is she done already?" Dean greeted, leaning back on the edge of the desk. Bobby bobbed his head in response.

"Yep, it was the very first thing she wanted to get done and over with this mornin'."

"So, how'd she do?" Dean asked.

"Good. She winced a little, had to bite her lip and dug the hell out of her palm with her nails, but she did well." Bobby paused to look up at Dean. "I'm impressed, actually. Last time I saw her she was such a wimp I almost told you to take her home and leave her out of all our crap, but she seems stronger now, not as scared of everything. Did you talk to her or something?" He raised his eyebrows at Dean. Dean looked around to make sure no one was within earshot.

"Yeah, Bobby, I did. She's, uh, better now. I gave her a few pointers that'll help her become a better hunter. But Bobby, can I ask you a favor?"

The violent ringing of a phone cut Dean off. Bobby answered it immediately. "'yello." Bobby sat straight up in his chair before propelling himself to his feet as he listened to what was happening on the other line. Dean watched him with cautious eyes. "Yes…yes, Jo, we'll be right there." He hung up and tossed the phone onto the desk, heading for the door to grab his jacket.

"Jo?" Dean asked. Bobby nodded. "Get everyone loaded up. Jo and Rufus found a nest of vamps and there are way more than they can handle alone. They need some back up." Dean nodded and went to collect Sam and Violet.

"Where are we going again?" Violet asked curiously from the backseat of the Impala. Sam jumped in and Dean started the engine.

"A nest of vampires. Man, it's been a long time." Dean grinned, anticipating the hunt. Bobby pulled out of the driveway in his truck and Dean followed after.

The Impala rumbled down the road and other than the purr of the engine, it was quiet in the car. Violet was sitting with her arms crossed over the front bench seat, her head resting lightly on her hands. "I wonder how Jo's doing. It's been a while," Sam thought aloud absently. This peaked Violet's curiosity.

"Jo? Who's that?"

"Oh, that's right, you haven't met her yet," Sam commented, twisting around to see her better. "She's a good friend of ours, a new hunter. Well, pretty new, anyway. Her Mom Ellen runs the _Roadhouse_ in Nebraska, a bar that hunters frequent. I'm sure you've heard one of us mention it." Violet nodded slowly.

"Another girl hunter, huh? There aren't many girls into hunting, are there? Why is that?"

"Because most are wimps and can't take pain," Dean grunted, grinning as he looked into the rearview mirror to glance at Violet. She socked his shoulder and glowered at him playfully.

"I'm not a wimp. Not anymore, at least. I'm ready to get serious about this hunting business. So, tips would be helpful if you can think of any." She brushed some hair back out of her face and sighed. "I'm ready to not be so scared of everything anymore."

Sam gave her an understanding look before turning to face the road. The car was once again consumed in silence. No one spoke until they reached their destination.


	24. Violet Meets Jo

**Chapter Twenty-four**

They all jumped from their vehicles and made immediate beelines to the trunk of the Impala. Dean began handing out weapons to anyone ready to grab. "Okay, talk to me, what are these things generally afraid of?" Violet kicked into serious mode.

"Direct sunlight hurts like bad sunburn, but the only sure way to kill them is decapitation." Dean held out a slim machete to her. "Things might get messy, but Sam'll make sure you don't have to kill anything unless threatened on this run, okay? Just watch for now and stay close to us. I don't want anyone getting hurt." He slammed the trunk shut.

A skinny blond girl and tall black man hurried over to them. Violet assumed the girl was Jo, but she didn't know who the guy was. "Jo, Rufus. Good to see you again." Bobby greeted.

"Who's this?" Jo asked, glancing at Violet with curiosity filling her eyes.

"Oh, this is Violet. A new recruit. She's still got some learning to do, so watch out for her," Bobby indicated, motioning to Violet lazily with his hand. "Anyway, what's been going on here?"

"Vamps. Seven of 'em. They're hiding out in a rundown warehouse just down the road. They seem to stick together like a tight knit pack, but we haven't been able to figure out who the alpha of the group is yet," Rufus reported, holding a long knife at his side.

"I see," Bobby commented, pondering something briefly. "You guys got any dead man's blood? 'Cause we're fresh out."

"Oh yeah, we got enough in my truck," Rufus replied, motioning behind him with the tip of his blade.

"Dead man's blood?" Violet whispered to Sam.

"Yeah, dead man's blood is like poison to vampires. It's a bit tricky to get, considering the name," Sam clued her in.

"Ohhh, I see now. Thanks." Sam grinned shortly at her before turning his attention back to Rufus.

"Ya'll ready to waste some vamps? I think we've got a chance now that you four are here. We're just barely outnumbered now. What do you say?" Rufus raised his eyebrows. Bobby looked around and his eyes paused warily on Violet.

"You think you'll be alright in there? This is the real deal, monsters more powerful and frightening than any ghoul. It's okay if you want to stay back."

Jo cut in, smiling a friendly smile at Violet. "Nah, she can come with me. I'll take care of her; maybe show her a thing or two. We'll be fine, right Violet?"

Violet's eyes widened in grateful surprise and she nodded, "Sure, yeah. We'll be alright."

"Alright then, let's head out before it gets any later. Sunlight is of the essence and right now, it's on our side." Rufus turned on his heel and began the trek towards the nest with the rest of the group following after. Jo walked back behind the pack of men to accompany Violet.

"So, you're new?"

Violet nodded shyly, turning the blade's handle in her hands. "I don't really know anything, to be honest. I haven't been into this hunting thing for too long yet. Only a few months, really."

"Oh, I gotcha. You're a really fresh newbie."

"I…I can't even properly shoot a gun. How pathetic is that?" They both laughed and the tension Violet had been feeling began to melt away. "I'd never confess that to the boys in a million years. If they could just throw me tips once and a while, I think I could catch on. I've been told I'm a quick learner."

"Well, what do you know so far? Maybe I can help you out. I'm kinda new myself. Still getting used to this whole thing." Jo sympathized briefly before blinking expectantly at Violet.

"Uh, well, I know that there are nasty things out there that people only believe to exist in their worst nightmares. I know a little bit about vampires, but never seen one. I've heard Sam and Dean talk about werewolves and changelings. I know a little bit about demons too. We ran into one recently." Violet looked down at the knife in her hands and nearly stopped. "I don't even know why Dean gave me this. I…don't know how to use it." She turned her head away in shame.

"Hey, it's alright. You gotta start somewhere. Sounds like you need a lot of training yet, but that's okay. I'll help you." Jo lightly brushed Violet's shoulder. Violet sighed.

"I'm sorry; I don't want to throw this all on you. I'm not your problem to take care of."

"No, I want to help you. It's my choice to help you."

"But…I hardly know you. You hardly know me. You really don't have to do this."

"Violet…let me help you."

She looked into Jo's eyes and saw a surprising flicker of understanding that made her cave. "Okay Jo. Thank you…but why? What reasons do you have for helping some wimpy girl who just showed up with the Winchesters whom you don't know?" Jo looked away and laughed. "…are you laughing at me?" Violet asked, confusion pulling her brows together and frustration beginning to build up in her chest. _Was this girl playing with me?_

"No, no, I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing at your situation. Being so oblivious to almost everything supernatural."

Violet raised her eyebrow.

"I'm laughing because it's kind of where I was when I willingly stepped into this mess. Albeit I had some knowledge on how to shoot a gun and some self-defense moves, I still had no clue just how much was out there and just how much damage these monsters do. You just remind me of that innocence I had at the beginning." Jo paused to smile as she reminisced. When she spoke again it came as a soft whisper that was barely heard over the gravel crunching under their shoes. "You just remind me of how much I wished that I had had someone to be there to help me out for the first little while I was learning about everything. That's why I want to help you so badly. I know you need it; I know you want it. And us rare female hunters just gotta stick together."

Violet blinked at her confession and a small, grateful smile graced her lips. "Thank you, Jo. Thanks so much." Jo bobbed her head smoothly.

"We're here," Rufus announced. Everyone halted at once.


	25. Violet on the Battlefield

**Chapter Twenty-five**

The tension that Violet thought had melted off came back full force and she started to tremble with nervousness. "Don't worry," Jo told her as if she felt Violet's emotions. "Just stick close to me and you should be fine."

Violet began to think that the option to stay back was getting more and more inviting. But then she stopped herself. This was her chance to show everyone - including herself - that she could be a hunter and not some spineless chicken. I can do this, she thought in attempt to boost her confidence level.

They all crouched low and Rufus put a finger over his lips. As if they didn't know that they had to be quiet. "They should be sleeping at this time of day, but it doesn't mean they won't wake up," Rufus murmured. Violet heard Dean grunt and whisper something to Sam that sounded like, "That's exactly what Dad said about these freaks."

Rufus whispered something shortly to Bobby before slipping through a window that he found to be open. Bobby waited a few minutes then turned to the rest of the group and motioned with his hand for them to follow closely behind. Violet could feel her heart beating in her throat.

Vampires. Dead man's blood. Decapitation. _You can do this._

She pinched her arm and told herself to man up as she tried to shake off the nervousness. _I hope this gets better over time_, she thought, _because I just cannot deal with this._

One by one they snuck through the window into the shadowy hideout. Dean and Sam crept forward slowly, blades at the ready in case any of them woke up. Jo was in front of her, eyes glancing about warily, taking in her surroundings. Violet decided that was probably the very first thing someone should do when entering an unfamiliar building; quickly take into account the nearest possible exits.

She started to calm down, her heart relaxing as she breathed in slowly. She could do this; with some thought and tips she could do this. It wasn't so hard.

Then a shirtless, surly, bearded man who looked like an evil Bobby on steroids rounded the corner, baring his jagged teeth and growling. Everyone froze, their eyes trained on this man and machetes at neck level. He hissed loudly and shouted before Sam could launch forward and cleanly slice his head off. His body thumped on the ground and his head rolled a few feet, already gushing blood.

_Oh god, oh god, oh god._

In seconds the hunters found themselves in the middle of a ring of angry vampires. _One down, six to go,_ Violet thought dryly. _Where the hell was Rufus?_

One moment everything was quiet and there was lots of glaring, and the next there was a frenzy and flurry of movement.

She saw Dean take the head off another vampire and watched Bobby chop off the head of a pretty blonde. Sam was defending himself from a particularly large man and his knife twisted out of his fingers. Violet looked frantically around; everyone was occupied with their own vampire. Even Jo was subduing a black haired woman as Violet stood there.

The vampire Sam was aiming to waste was trying to bite him. Violet suddenly felt determination well up in her and her feet marched her body quickly forward. She thought of the decapitation like chopping up wood for the stove in the winter time; swing hard, swing clean, and swing fast.

And she did just that.

The man's body tumbled to the ground, his head dropping heavily onto the dirt. Sam looked at her in surprise, blinking as if he didn't believe what he saw. She hardly even believed what she had done. She stood there in shock, gazing down at the crimson blade in her hands.

_I can do this._

Violet's mind suddenly worked quickly. _Two more to go_, she thought, her eyes darting around at every small movement. Dean and Sam tag teamed a thin, pale man. That's when she saw Rufus run around the corner, his knife at the ready and eyes cautious. He took in the number of bodies on the ground and relaxed his own. "I took care of the last one it seems. Good work guys. Let's get the hell outta here."

Violet heard a hiss behind her. She watched as Sam and Dean turned simultaneously to leap toward her, but they didn't get there even as time slowed and sped up all at once. She couldn't spin around fast enough.

"That was my mate you killed, bitch."

Arms reached deftly around her and the next thing her brain registered was pain blooming in her stomach and blood in her airway. She sucked in and choked, looking down to see her blade's handle protruding from her gut. Jo took initiative and wasted the female quickly. Sam, Dean and the others rushed forward.

"Dean…I did it…I killed a vampire…" Violet murmured, chills working through her limbs. She heard someone ask where the nearest hospital was and felt arms wrap around her. Her head lolled forward and she fell.


	26. Comatose

**Chapter Twenty-six**

"God, I dunno what to think Violet." A voice. She could hear a male voice, but all she saw was black. She couldn't move. Was that Dean's voice? "You better wake up or I might sell my soul to a demon," He chuckled humorlessly. That was definitely Dean. "Hey Vi…if you can hear me, can you…move or something? Please?" He whispered to her as if he didn't want anyone else to hear. She wanted to say something, to shout that she was still there, that she was still alive. She wanted to reassure him, but her body decided not to carry out her request.

Suddenly her hearing shut off and her brain swam, falling back into unconsciousness.

"If she wakes up she should be alright, but if she continues to be in her current comatose state, well…she may never wake up." A stiff voice filtered through the blackness. She found that she still couldn't move and this frustrated her.

"Thank you, doctor. I guess all we can do at this point is hope for the best." A girl. That was Jo's voice. _Jo_, Violet wanted to scream, _I'm alive, I'm alive; I'll be awake in no time_, but she couldn't.

"Violet, I'm sorry. I said I'd take care of you and keep you safe but I failed right from the start. Please, give me another chance…" She could hear the sadness and regret in her voice. _Wake up, dammit. Move, body_! Why wouldn't anything listen to her?

She felt herself slipping away again and tried to hold on, to keep her semi-consciousness, but the tug was too powerful. She was enveloped in black once again.

She felt a squeezing pressure on her hand. Feeling! She could feel! Finally! Maybe that meant she was coming around? "Violet," she heard a shaky voice murmur. Dean? "Damn it, I'm serious. Wake up. If you don't, I won't ever forgive myself. From the moment you loaded up and came with us it was my responsibility to look after you. I…I think I care for you, Vi. Just, please…come back to us…" She tried her hardest to squeeze his hand back, to show him signs of life. She couldn't tell if she had done it or not.

She felt his hand go slack in hers. _Wait_, she wanted to yell, _wait a second, I'll try again_. She could imagine her face; ground teeth and brows furrowed in concentration. C'mon, you just got your head wrapped around this supernatural business, you can do this. It's easy; just _squeeze._

She flexed her fingers and Dean immediately squeezed back. "Violet?" he asked as if he had just witnessed a miracle. She squeezed again and this time it came easier. Yes! She was coming around!

The next time she surfaced, she was able to open her eyes and move her limbs more freely. Everyone was so relieved to see her awake and she felt relief that she hadn't failed them. She was so glad, so incredibly glad that she had them by her side. They all rushed into the room right after Dean had said that she responded to his voice, although he hadn't said how and this made her wonder. Would he be embarrassed if they knew he had been holding her hand? Or was it something else?

Within hours she was able to get up and walk around, not without a bit of wobbling and tipping, but she could walk. The doctors decided that she could be safely dejected from the hospital if she made sure to get her rest and not push herself too much in the days following. She nodded as fervently as she could. She wanted to get out of the hospital, with its overly clean hallways and bleach smelling rooms.

The rest of the company was excited to finally get her out.


	27. Feeling More Accepted

"God, I'm so glad you're up and around," Jo said, hugging Violet gently. She was passed around to everyone upon arrival back at Bobby's, hugging them all close. She knew she had voiced her appreciation and gratitude for them being by her many times, but she felt like she hadn't been able to express it totally.

When she got to Dean he hesitated, wondering frantically what to do, what was appropriate. "Come here," Violet said, wrapping her arms around him. She felt his body tense and then relax against hers. _You silly man_, she thought, smiling languidly. "Were you the one who picked me up?" she murmured in question so that only he could hear. He nodded, his chin digging into her shoulder.

After she pulled away she went back to sit on the bed she had been resting in and pondered over a few things. The short exchange between her and Dean felt unfinished somehow, like there was something more to be said. She figured if it ate away at Dean enough he would bring it up and decided that she wouldn't say anything about it until then.

They told her she had been out for a few days. "That vamp stabbed you pretty hard," Bobby commented. "You were tough though, you fought through it. You know, you're really different than the Violet I used to know. She woulda died in a second." He grinned and patted her on the shoulder. "Nice work, Violet. I'm proud of you." She blushed mildly, grateful for his acceptance. She felt like part of the team, part of the pack. She felt good.

Jo had gone home to spend some time with her Mom at that point, departing with a smile and a promise of seeing her again soon. Violet couldn't wait for that moment.

"Hey," Dean broke her from her reverie, leaning lightly on the doorframe. "We've got a new job opportunity a few states over. Wanna come?" Her face lit up immediately and Dean couldn't help but smile back at her. _How is she doing this to me,_ he thought. She had such an effect on him. "Of course! I am so ready to get back in the game. When do we leave?"

"As soon as you're packed and ready to go." He pushed himself off the wood and twisted around to pack up his own few belongings. "Meet us by the front door and we'll load up and head out." He could already hear her stuffing things into her duffel as he walked away. He shook his head once he was out of her eyesight. She was so eager to help. He was wary, though; the last thing he wanted was a rerun of what just happened. He decided he was going to watch her every move.

"I'm ready!" she beamed, abruptly standing behind him with her duffel bag slung lazily over one shoulder. He hefted his own bag up and called for Sam. They said their goodbyes to Bobby as they walked out his front door and departed to their next job.

Dean was surprised to find that Violet was quiet for most of the trip. According to her behavior earlier, he had prepared himself to have his ear talked off for the majority of the ride, but she was silent. He wondered if that was a good or bad thing; there were too many somethings that could be rattling around in her head.

"There's still so much out there," she finally spoke, murmuring her words slowly. Dean nodded his head in agreement and glanced at her in his rearview mirror. "Monsters, I mean." Her eyes darted down and a frown overtook her lips, as if debating something. "Dean?" she asked tentatively.

"What?"

"Do you remember…do you know what creature attacked my family?"

Oh. That's why she was so quiet; she had been thinking about that night. Dean was surprised they never told her what it was that had decided to target her family. "Uh, let's see…it was a demon, right, Sam? Yeah, it was a demon that you brushed with."

"A demon…" she murmured back, processing and digesting the word. "Do you think it was there to retrieve me? You know, to fulfill my destiny, or whatever."

Dean had never given it much thought, but he reasoned that it was a great possibility the demon had come to take her away. Ever since then demons, had painted a bulls' eye on her back. "Maybe. I don't know, but we'll make sure you don't go dark side, okay? You'll be alright with us protecting you."

She half smiled and relaxed a little bit in her seat. "Thanks, Dean. I'm glad I have you two I can rely so much on. Especially now, after everything that's happened. I owe my life to you guys."

And with that, the car was settled into a comfortable silence.


	28. When the Past Catches Up

The next job in Idaho ended up being a clan of manipulating Sirens. They were terrorizing a little town, but that all ended when Dean and Sam (and Violet) showed up. Gradually and as they did more jobs, Violet got better and better, but she still was nowhere near the level Dean and Sam were at. Dean began pondering how to make her more skilled somehow, but neither of the brothers had time to sit around and teach Violet the ropes. It was either learn in the middle of the commotion or sit out and watch. Which, of course, now Violet was more apt to do the latter and it put Dean more on edge because he felt he needed to watch her back as well as his own.

One night, though, the three amigos had a little break and decided to hit up a bar in a town after a thoroughly interesting day.

As they walked out, full of nothing but carbs and at least pleasantly buzzed, Violet couldn't help but laugh.

"Can you believe that guy? That was so bizarre! He knew your lives inside and out! Although I can't believe he didn't include more of me. What was his name again?" Violet commented, overexcited.

"Chuck Shirley," Sam replied, a smile working its way on to his lips.

"Chuck Shirley! I know you didn't want me to talk about it, but what was with those book covers? Hilarious! Oh, I just can't stop myself."

Dean slung an arm around Violet's shoulders and gave her a noogie.

"Well I guess it's up to us to stop you, then. Can it about those book covers or I'll take you back to the motel," Dean growled playfully. Violet wriggled out of his hold somehow and scampered a few paces away, spinning around with a mischievous expression on her face.

"You can't make me!" she shouted, giggling, and ran further away. She grabbed onto a light pole and swung around it, her hair flying and cheeks flushing. Dean simply watched her, more amused than he'd let on, but Sam nudged Dean in the ribs and muttered jokingly, "it was your idea to adopt her."

"I know. And I might have regretted it before, but not now."

Sam agreed to this before egging Violet on. She sauntered over to Sam and hung onto his arm, pushing her body close to his.

"Heya hot stuff, let's go for a ride!" She giggled again and twirled away from the brothers, dancing madly down the sidewalk. Onlookers could only watch curiously, all the while still keeping their distance.

"Hey, don't even joke about that, Vi!" Sam yelled after her, laughing slightly to keep the mood light but at the same time remaining quite serious. Violet either didn't hear him or decided not to reply. Perhaps she doesn't remember any of that, Dean thought.

"Ohh, heyyy, look who it is! Little old Vi-o-let! What brings you out this way, chicky?" slurred a voice from the corner that Violet had just disappeared around. Dean and Sam upped their pace and switched into serious mode. They caught up to Violet shortly.

She stood opposite a lanky young man who stank of cheap liquor. Despite Violet's weak protests, he continued to poke at her in attempt to bring her closer to him. Her airy, free mood from just a couple minutes ago was completely wiped away. She stared at the ground in what almost seemed to be shame.

"Who's this?" Dean asked gruffly, sizing the guy up.

"My old boyfriend from high school," Violet replied quietly, glancing up at Dean.

"I think it's time we got back to the motel," Sam proposed, making to grab violet and get out of there posthaste.

"Nah, I think she'd rather stay with me for the night, eh?" the boyfriend said, putting an arm around Violet and yanking her to him. She flinched away but didn't struggle.

"Violet, let's go," Sam said as easily as he could manage.

Done with tug-o-war crap, Dean secured Violet in his grasp, tore her away from the shitface, and began walking her in the opposite direction. Sam followed closely behind.

"Fine! You go sleep with your sugar-daddy's, you whore!" shitface bellowed.

Violet spun, her face suddenly livid. "I am _not_ a whore! And don't you dare talk bad about my friends!"

Shitface snorted. "Your friends, eh? You planning to kill them, too? Just like you killed your pretty little mommy and sister? Huh?"

At this, Violet couldn't resist. She stomped back to the guy, slapped him as hard as she could manage, and shoved him away.

"I didn't kill anyone!"

"Little miss liar! We both know how guilty you are."

Sam and Dean could only watch the exchange and wait for a cue. It was impossible to know how and when to intervene.

Violet made a frustrated noise and balled her fists up. As serious as she was when she was truly angry, Dean could only think of a little pissed off kitty cat. Cute - maybe a little threatening - but overall completely harmless.

"I hope you go blind! Go get run over by a semi!" she spat finally and ran back to the boys, not stopping when she reached them.

Shitface sneered after violet before turning on his heel and stumbling away.

Sam and Dean connected worried gazes once they realized what Violet had just done.

"Vi! Vi, wait!"

"What? Just leave me alone!" she screamed, tears in her eyes. Whether they were angry or not, Dean hadn't the time to tell.

"Can you take it back somehow?" Sam asked quickly.

"Take what back? I didn't do anything!" There was a long, thoughtful pause when the light dinged on. "No. I didn't just use my power, did I?" Violet swung herself back around just before the loud, screeching sound of braking tires pierced the night, followed by the unmistakable thud of a body.

Violet's hand came rapidly to her face.

"Oh, God, no. I'm so sorry," she whimpered, crumpling to the ground.

Dean resisted, but the urge to roll his eyes and tell her she was being pathetic was strong. Then he remembered she was a female and not his brother, and that helped his resistance a little.

Wordlessly, he crouched down beside her, scooped her up, and they made their way back to the motel. Violet cried silently as Dean carried her.


	29. Boot Camp

A few days later, the threesome found themselves back at Bobby's for some recon and relaxation, although strangely there was more of the latter and a great lack of the former.

All gathered in the "office" just off the kitchen, Violet sat backwards in a chair with her arms crossed over the spine and chin resting on forearms. Dean sat on the couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and a beer in hand, at which he stared thoughtfully. Sam was the opposite, lounging back in a chair and completing the triangle. His hand was also busy with a beer, of course.

Bobby walked in, stopped, and took in the three darkening his office.

"Well aint y'all just the cheeriest idjits I ever seen."

Three pairs of eyes glanced up at Bobby briefly and then resumed whatever activity they had been doing before. Bobby sighed and slumped down in the chair at the desk.

"You told me y'all were coming here for recon, but you still haven't told me what we're reconnin' about." Bobby slowly looked at each individual in turn. "Is everything all right?"

Dean took a breath and decided to speak on behalf of everyone. "Yeah, Bobby, everything's fine. We just had a difficult start to our week."

Bobby's expression didn't change. "Well since when _doesn't_ that happen?"

Violet, Dean, and Sam all exchanged the same look before Dean rounded back on Bobby.  
"It was...a different kind of difficult, all right? We just wanted to include you in figuring out what our next move is going to be."

"I haven't been hearin' much chatting. And I find it real strange that you boys haven't told me what happened this past week. It's not like you. Need I get the holy water?" Bobby raised his eyebrows.

Dean gave a frustrated sigh and made to speak, but Violet stopped him.

"It's okay, Dean. I understand that we're trying not to talk about it to make me feel better, but Bobby needs to know. If he's supposed to help us to the best of his ability, we have to tell him everything." Violet locked gazes with Dean and then trained her eyes on Bobby. "I killed someone with my power a couple days ago. Not on purpose...it just kind of happened. You know, like when you just get so mad at someone and start cursing and saying bad things and it just kind of spews out, even if you don't mean everything you say? I couldn't stop myself. And honestly I didn't even think about it until it was too late."

Bobby studied Violet carefully as she spoke. "What did you say, exactly?"

Violets face immediately flushed cherry tomato red. "I said he should go blind and get run over by a semi," she mumbled.

Bobby attempted to squelch the "oof" sound rising to his mouth, but it came out without warrant. He cleared his throat and settled more into his chair, clasping his fingers together over his ample gut.

"So that was the difficult start to your week, huh?"

Three heads nodded in unison. Violet tucked her chin back in its previous resting place.

"All right, well now that that's out of the way...what sort of recon were you imagining, Dean? Sam? What are we thinking needs discussion? There aren't signs of a rising apocalypse, are there?"

Sam gave a chuckle. "No, Bobby, it's not that serious."

"Sure it is, Sam. We're trying to figure out how to train Violet," Dean put in. "And that's about as serious as it gets."

That earned him a sock in the shoulder from the lady in question. Dean couldn't help but smile.

"I see. Well, what are the ideas?"

Dean and Sam exchanged another look that didn't seem very promising.

"We, uh, don't really have any," Sam replied.

"That's why we came to you."

Bobby took in a deep breath and began pondering. After a couple minutes of dead silence, Bobby said, "how about-"

"Jo? What about Jo?" Dean spoke suddenly. "Do you think she'd be willing to take Vi for a couple months and give a sort of hunter boot camp?"

Bobby looked at Dean as if he'd stolen the words right out of his mouth.

"Yeah, sure, sounds great," Bobby remarked flatly.

Dean, as excited as Violet had ever seen him, clapped his hands together and spoke directly to Violet.

"Get ready, Vi. Boot camp here we come. I'm feeling good about this one." Dean looked at Bobby. "Let's call her up and tell her about our little plan."

Violet smiled at Dean. "Boot camp with Jo, eh? Sounds fun. At least she'll respect me a little bit more than you guys do," she laughed.

"Hey Dean, Jo's on the line," Bobby interrupted and handed the phone to Dean before he could manage a proper response.

"Hey, Jo, we've got a proposition for you..."

END PART 1


	30. Back Story

**Chapter Thirty**

_Violet's father was never around for her entire life. She didn't even know his name and neither did her mother. Essentially he knocked up her mom and left, nowhere to be found, leaving no traces behind. This was always strange to Violet, and as she grew up she had a hard time explaining her parenting situation to her friends. She caught herself asking her mother numerous times throughout her childhood, "Where's daddy? Where's daddy and why doesn't he come home?"_

_Her mom never gave her a straight reply and always dodged the question. As a single parent with two young daughters – each from different, conveniently vanished men – it was difficult to keep their little household afloat. Violet learned as she got older that not all men were to be trusted with something like emotions, although in her high school years she found a boyfriend who she thought loved her. In the end, he had only wanted her for one thing and that one thing she wasn't willing to give up so easily. He had paid her enough attention to make her feel loved, even though he didn't generate it himself, and she fell in love with that feeling. _

_Things ended badly with that one and once again, Violet was left alone by another male who was supposed to love her no matter what. Gradually, she caught on. _

_When she got to be twenty years old, she was still living at home but helping her mother provide for their little family. It was more difficult than she thought it was, growing up with all the innocence in the world. _

_Shortly after that, two men who claimed to be brothers darkened the neighborhood they resided in and went door to door asking about any strange occurrences. Flickering lights, black fog and smoke seeming to hang in the air, and other peculiar things of that sort. Violet's mom got increasingly nervous as they questioned her and promptly shut the door in their faces. Violet asked her mom why she had done such a mean thing, that they were nice men just trying to help, and her mother simply ignored her. That was worse than being yelled at, in Violet's head. _

_That very same night, there were weird sounds emanating from the kitchen while they were all sleeping peacefully in their beds. Whatever it was crept up the stairs and went for Violet's mom first. As the sound of a rumbling engine pulled up in the driveway, her mother let out a scream that surely woke the entire neighborhood. Car doors slammed and daughters leapt from beds to investigate. _

_The monster slaughtered Violet's sister next, right in front of her eyes. Two pairs of boots thumped up the stairs and apprehended the creature, killing it before it killed Violet. Crimson flecks spattered her beautiful face like misguided paint. The body fell at her feet and she jumped, shivering, at the sight of the blood gurgling out of the man's mouth. _

_Violet never thought a man could be so brutal, so cruel until she had her family murdered by one._

_Tears rushed faster than thought to her eyes and she had no hope of containing them. One of the men who were trying to help called 9-1-1 and an ambulance was at the house no more that fifteen minutes later to retrieve the bodies. Violet sat on the steps of the front porch, wrapped in an itchy blanket and staring across the street. The police that dropped by had tried to ask her questions, but she uttered not a word._

_Even as the police and ambulance finally packed up and left, Violet continued to sit on the front steps, tears streaming soundlessly, the whimpers having long gone. The taller of the two men came and sat next to her, coaxing her to speak._

"_Do you have any family in the area that we can take you to? Maybe a close friend who would be willing to take you in for a couple of days?" he asked gently and she appreciated it. She shook her head._

"_No. Mom was an only child and her parents are dead. I have no friends that would consider housing me for a few nights. I have nowhere else to go," Violet whispered in reply, more tears lurching to her eyes as she fully realized the gravity of her situation. "Nowhere else. No one left."_

_The more handsome of the two men pulled the tall one aside and spoke to him quietly, although Violet could tell his voice was eager. _

"_She's got no one left, Sam. The least we could do is take her in for a little while. And besides, she knows of the supernatural now and has nowhere else to go. She's pretty and she's nice and I really don't think she'd be too much trouble."_

_The taller one, Sam, pondered this with a doubting look on his face. The handsome one continued._

"_We are the closest thing she's got to family right now. I know it isn't much, but I know that we can't just leave her here like this. I mean, we're all about saving people, right?"_

_Sam finally nodded his head in agreement and walked back over to Violet, still staring wide-eyed at the concrete pathway that went out to the road._

"_Violet, we were wondering if you would like to come with us for a little while. I can't promise it would be anything permanent and we kind of live a crazy life, but I promise you it's better than staying here with all these bad memories."_

_Violet almost immediately nodded her head, looking into Sam's eyes with her deep, pleading ones. Sam practically flinched back at the staggering feeling of pleading he saw in her eyes. _Take me away from this place,_ they said. And the two brothers did just that._

_Six months later, they find themselves awaiting Violet's return from Jo's boot camp…_


	31. The Hunter's Version of an Examination

**Part 2**

The doorbell to Bobby's house rang, filling the heads of anyone who was close enough to hear. Sam got up and did the honor of opening the door to find Violet standing there, confidence rolling off her as she smiled. Without evening speaking or moving, Dean could tell she had changed dramatically. He only hoped it was all for the better.

Violet went to hug Sam, but he resisted her and stood back.

"How do we know it's really you?" he tested.

Violet's smile grew as she whipped out a small silver dagger that no doubt Jo had gifted her, held it firmly in her hand, unclipped a little bottle of holy water from her belt and downed it in one gulp, grabbed a pinch of salt and sprinkled it thoroughly over her head. No burning, no hissing, no screams of pain.

Violet continued to smirk.

"I'm back, boys," she murmured in a tone Dean didn't quite recognize. Although it was foreign, he found he quite liked it. Quickly he shook the distracting thoughts from his head and got down to the real business.

Sam gave Dean a somewhat surprised but not quite impressed glance. As if they could read each other's minds, Sam smoothly crossed his arms, awaiting the next move.

Dean abruptly threw a punch at Violet, which she dodged before flinging up her right arm into his outstretched one, throwing him off balance. While he teetered briefly, Violet twisted her right arm and locked it around his neck, spinning him around to elbow him in the back with her left arm. Dean flopped to the floor in a pride-less heap.

"Good one," he muttered. "Maybe I'm getting too old for this crap."

Violet rested her hands on her hips and smirked down at Dean as he pushed himself off the ground.

"Nah, Dean, you're just out of practice. And besides, making a remark like that is practically a compliment. So, thank you very much."

Sam had his eyebrows raised, his interest piquing increasingly, although he still didn't appear convinced that Violet was as badass as she was acting. Sam thought it was about time to "put her money where her mouth was," as they say.

Sam slowly walked toward her, almost certain that he – the Stanford law kid, the know-it-all, the professional bookworm – could flunk her on supernatural knowledge. She was still a newbie in his eyes after all. Surely she couldn't have accrued enough information over the past three months as he had his entire life.

The questions began rapid-fire and the pace didn't cease.

"What's most effective against ghosts?" Sam asked quickly, expecting her to respond equally as fast, especially since the question is common knowledge among hunters.

"Iron repels them; a shot of rock salt repels them; salting and burning their remains – all of them – will get rid of a ghost for good," Violet fired off easily, confidently.

"Shapeshifter?" Sam asked simply.

"Silver to the heart."

"Werewolves?"

"Only a silver bullet."

"Changelings?"

"Fire. Lots of it."

Sam's eyes narrowed and he smirked at the thought of the next question.

"All right, so you know your basics, I'll give you that. But which is the best way to kill a vampire? A wooden stake to the heart or a silver bullet?"

"Neither. Decapitation is the only way you can completely kill a vampire," Violet answered smoothly. Sam nodded in approval, but _still_ wasn't convinced. He began to walk around her, circling her to get a good, full look at her. One of the first things he noticed as far as changes in her body were the muscles in her arms – they were nonexistent before and now were obvious, toned, and slightly chiseled.

_Damn, Jo must have worked her hard,_ Dean thought then, taking a look a Violet himself. He was beginning to feel really good about his decision to ship her off to boot camp. Not only did she seem thoroughly informed about all the monsters out there, but she was also more visually pleasing as well. _Not that she wasn't before,_ Dean thought quickly. _But there's always room for improvement._

"Time for some hands on testing," Dean stated, walking to the back of the house expecting the other two to follow automatically.

They all stepped down from the stairs and into Bobby's back yard where a large old table was set up with a huge collection of weapons. Dean watched Violet's eyes light up and for some reason it filled him with a joy he couldn't even begin explain. _Welcome to my world now. I'll show you everything there is to see about these monsters._

"Begin by naming every single item on the table," Dean said gruffly, crossing his arms like his brother while watching.

"Let's start with the guns. _The_ Colt: .36 caliber; crossbow; one pistol-grip sawed-off double-barrel shotgun; one pistol-grip _single_-barrel shotgun; 1987 pump shotgun; Colt M-one-nine-one-one-A-one: .45 caliber; Taurus Model 92: 9mm; Beretta Model 92: 9mm; Desert Eagle; Smith & Wesson Model 4006, 9mm. Now for the knives. Bowie knife, machete, ceremonial dagger, battleaxe, pocket knife, shuriken, and a spear head," Violet rattled off, pointing a sharp nail at each object in turn.

"Good. Now take apart the Desert Eagle," Sam ordered. Violet complied without a sound, sliding the gun gently through her hands as she took it apart, and sighed, pausing before putting it back together.

"Really boys, this is child's play. You got anything more challenging?" She quickly set the pieces and parts all back into place and laid the gun down amongst the plethora of murderous equipment.

"Sure, but first I need to test something else out just to make sure you're battle ready," Dean said, grinning at her. "Load the Beretta and shoot that target." Both brothers stepped aside simultaneously like double doors opening. Dean pointed to a bull's eye hastily spray-painted onto an old sign a couple hundred feet from where they were all standing.

"All right," Violet breathed, glitter in her eyes again. Skillfully she loaded the cartridge and cocked the pistol. She aimed it quickly and pulled the trigger, hitting the red dot on the sign nearly directly in the middle.

"Beginner's luck," Dean mumbled. Violet glanced at him, held up the Beretta, aimed, and shot again at the target twice more. The next two bullets were buried extremely close to the first one. Violet set the gun down smugly when she saw the look on Sam's face before he could wipe the surprise from it.

"Okay, so you're good with weapons. But how good are you really at hand-to-hand combat? You can't hide behind a gun forever," Sam challenged.

"We already did that inside," Dean reminded him. Sam shrugged and got into a battle-ready position.

"That was you, though."

"If you'd quit yammering, I'd have shown you how good I am already," Violet put in cheekily, raising her eyebrows. Sam smirked in reply and lunged at her, fists up. Sam immediately swung wide, creating a haymaker, but Violet quickly ducked and sprang back up, burying her fist in his gut, leaving him to stagger back a step. She took the advantage and kicked him square in the chest with a side kick, making him stumble dangerously. Sam feebly tried to punch Violet, aiming for her face, but she dodged it flawlessly in his weakness, not having completely recovered from her last move. As a finishing attack, and with a flourish, Violet gracefully crouched to the ground and swung her leg around hard in a sweeping motion, knocking him clean off his feet.

Sam landed hard on his back with a grunt and a few odd guttural noises. Violet laughed and dusted off her hands before standing over him and cracking her knuckles tauntingly.

"Any more tests, master samurai?" Violet laughed and bent to grab Sam's hand to yank him off the dirt. He took it with a smile.

The three of them moseyed back inside where Dean gave her a paper test with drawing symbols down from memory. Sam watched her hands scrawl across the page with sweeping motions. He wouldn't deny it; he was thoroughly impressed with her. She definitely was a whole different person – in the best of ways – and he was really glad she wasn't such a wimp anymore. _She'll make an excellent hunter,_ Sam thought. _Never thought I'd ever think such a thing, but by God it's true…_

Of course Violet aced everything Dean could manage to throw at her. Devil's traps, exorcism incantations, the whole shebang. Dean couldn't help but let the approving look on his face show as Violet stood from her chair.

"Welcome back, Vi," Dean murmured, hugging her as a sort of acceptance into being a hunter.

"I must admit, I am impressed," Sam praised, hugging her shortly and gripping her shoulder after they split. "Jo must've struck some chords with you. You're not such a wimp anymore." Violet smiled genuinely that time; not a smirk or a grin, but a pretty, old-school Violet smile. Dean was happy to see that a few old characteristics had stuck around.

"Thanks guys, really. I like the idea of me being able to protect myself and actually be of use to you guys," Violet said, using her usual sweet voice instead of her new tough one.

"Me too," Dean replied, laughing and earning himself a playful, yet firm, sock in the shoulder.


	32. One of Them

The three of them regarded each other separately in silence until Dean spoke up.

"Anyone else hungry? Let's go get some grub," Dean said, grabbing the Impala's keys from his pocket to flip them around his fingers. He waggled his eyebrows. Violet laughed.

"I see you haven't changed at all. Still always thinking about food, eh?"

"I get grumpy when I'm hungry," he replied defensively. "The only reason I eat so much is for your benefit."

Violet rolled her eyes, but the smile stayed put. "Oh please."

Sam held open the front door and glanced back at them expectantly.

"Where to?"

They all sat at a tall table on swiveling bar stools in their traditional triangle formation, enveloped in smoke, cracking pool balls, and oldies rock and roll music. _Dean's natural habitat, _Violet thought wryly. _All he needs is the biggest burger they serve and he's good to go._

As if on cue, the waitress stopped at their table and slid Dean's order in front of him. Violet could practically see the saliva building as he stared at the monstrous thing. A plate of chicken tenders found its place in front of Violet and a smaller but still fairly good-sized burger landed in front of Sam.

The second Violet glanced up, Dean had already wrapped his fingers around the burger and taken a huge chunk out of it. Ketchup was smeared around his mouth and dripping onto his plate. Violet gaped at him in confused wonder.

"What?" Dean asked innocently, his mouth so full she almost couldn't deduce what he had said.

"You are some kind of weird."

Dean shrugged and continued making out with his burger. He downed the thing in what seemed like three bites and skillfully wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Violet rolled her eyes, ceased all comments, and began to pick away at her tenders. Sam gave her an understanding look and ate his burger in silence.

The waitress passed by again and Dean's blatant stare was on her ass until she was out of sight. Violet just laughed and shook her head.

"Yup, haven't changed at all."

Dean, totally oblivious, turned back around and hooked a thumb over his shoulder with a pleased expression on his face.

"Totally banging that later."

At this, Violet stood abruptly from her chair and stared Dean straight in the eyes. Her expression from just a second ago was replaced with an intensely serious one.

"Women are not objects, Dean. We are human beings. So treat us like them."

She removed herself completely from the table and ran away in the general direction of the bathrooms. Dean watched her go before looking back at Sam with a raised eyebrow.

"What's her problem?"

Sam shook his head in disappointment. "Dean, don't you remember anything about her past? She's had a rough time with the male species. All the men she thought loved her have either left her completely or treated her like an object and not a person. Her father deserted her _and _her family, her boyfriend used her to try to get something he wanted, and every man in her life since hasn't taken her seriously. Even we haven't treated her like we should have. Always undermining her and showing her how bad she was at certain things. It's a miracle she put up with it all."

Dean regarded him curiously, processing his words.

"The comment you made must have been her tipping point."

"Yeah, I guess so," Dean murmured, glancing back to the bathrooms in search for the disappeared Violet. "You think she'll come back?"

"Yeah, she will. She just has to cool down and recompose herself first, I would imagine. If she looks like she's been crying when she comes back, don't comment on it. There's a reason she left to go do that in the first place."

Dean looked at him for a second.

"Dude, I swear you're gay sometimes."

"Dean," Sam said in a tone that spelled, _really?_

Dean leaned forward on the table and wrapped a hand around his coffee mug to take a gulp.

"How do you know so much about women anyway?"

Sam picked up a couple fries and proceeded to shove them into his mouth before answering.

"I had Jess and Ruby, and even Madison for a time. I've had enough experience living with women."

"Right."

Sam studied him briefly before rolling his eyes and taking a sip out of his glass.

"Why did she snap now though? That was really strange how suddenly her mood changed," Dean commented, glancing in the direction Violet had gone. Genuine worry and concern began to work its way onto his face, almost against his will. He should have been able to pull the "couldn't care less" card easily, but for some reason, when it came to Violet he couldn't do it.

Sam shrugged in response to his question.

"Maybe you've never said anything about women like that before. Maybe you've just looked at them. I would assume she understands the whole "man likes how a good body looks and must stare" thing coming from you. Or else she would have reacted sooner. At least that's what it all seems like."

Dean blinked at him and took another gulp of coffee. Sam's eyes flickered over Dean's shoulder and then back to Dean's face.

"Here she comes. Remember; don't comment if it looks like she's been crying."

"Really, man? Of course."

Violet silently made her way back to the table, head down and eyes glued to the floor even as she took her seat. Without making any kind of acknowledging gestures, she crossed her arms in front of her and stared at the ash tray at the center of the table. Dean and Sam exchanged a look.

_What do we do now? _Dean's eyes asked hurriedly. Sam shrugged slightly.

_Say something funny. _

_What, you think I can just crank this stuff out on cue?_

_Just do it, Dean._

"So while you were away, we figured out that Sam might be gay."

Sam gave him a diminishing look that showed his great lack of appreciation for being the topic for "something funny."

Violet's eyebrows furrowed and she looked up to give Dean a weird expression.

"Just because he knows more about women than you do doesn't make him gay, Dean," she mumbled after a few seconds.

"What? How can she know that?" Dean sputtered. Sam enjoyed his floundering and made sure Violet knew he was proud of her for the comeback. This cracked a slight change in expression. Her eyes lit up just enough.

"She's more observant than you give her credit for, Dean. I'm not surprised she figured that out about me."

Dean glowered at him quietly and drank down more tar-like coffee. He made a face that portrayed a clear "ugh!" feeling. Violet watched him curiously.

"Why do you drink that stuff? It looks disgusting and you obviously aren't enjoying it," Violet inquired, blinking at him thoughtfully.

Dean was just thankful she was speaking directly to him. It didn't matter what she was saying at this point. However, he did decide to humor her.

"It's like you drinking all that alcohol; I drink this for the effect, not the taste. Our job calls for lots of caffeine and in some moments, we can't settle for creamed down coffee. It's got to be black and gross and full of caffeine."

Violet nodded her head in complete understanding.

"Yeah, I never drank alcohol for the taste. It was always to get wasted enough so I could sleep without interruption."

"Exactly," Dean replied and drank down the rest of the sludge in his cup. Violet laughed at his extremely exaggerated expression and Dean couldn't help but smile, thankful she seemed to be all right about what happened.


	33. Tease

One delightfully sunny afternoon a couple days later, Violet strolled out to the garage out back where Dean was doing a tune-up on the Impala. There were a couple empty beer bottles littering the work bench and old school music was playing. Dean was on a creeper under the car, probably changing the oil filter or something.

"Oh, _Back In Black, _how fitting," Violet greeted in a singsong voice, patting the front fender of the car. Dean rolled out from under the car briefly to see who had spoken, although it was fairly obvious from the timbre and pitch. Dean shoved himself back under the car and continued working.

"Hey, don't even joke about that. I've been through enough crap with this car to have that song be the theme and I'd rather not relive them," Dean grumbled, although it was still fairly light-hearted.

"Sorry, didn't mean anything by it," Violet replied automatically, slowly circling the car and following its curves with her hands. The metal was warm and yet cool under her palms as it dipped and rose and curved. She stopped at the where Dean was and bent over, peeking her head underneath the car.

"Soooo, need any help?"

Dean studied her for a second, attempting to determine whether she was just trying to be nice or if she wanted something. She wasn't the latter type…but still. She had changed in the three months she'd been at Jo's. Maybe some things did change for the worse after all.

"Uh, sure. Know how to change oil?"

"Oh yeah. You'll need a drain pan and I'll need a couple new quarts of oil. And a rag, too. A rag is always good."

"It should all be on the bench," Dean responded, trying to keep his expectations low. _She's a chick and chicks don't typically know cars very well. Sure she might know how to change oil, that's nothing special._

"Yup, here it is. And there you go," Violet said, scooting the drain pan to Dean. "Let me know when you pull the screw and it looks like the oil has drained out completely."

"Will do," Dean replied automatically. A couple minutes after he'd pulled the screw and finished with the new oil filter, he popped up from the creeper and went to stand beside Violet near the front of the car.

"Ready?" she asked, her eyes glimmering in the sunbeams filtering through the grimy windows and the massive garage door opening.

"Yeah, she's ready."

"Okay, here we go." Violet uncapped the first quart, grabbed a funnel, and start pouring in the fresh oil. Dean could just imagine the car sighing in relief.

"So, do you have to do this often? Oil changes and all that. I mean, in one week you guys can go halfway across the country and back. I'm sure she gets tired after all that traveling in such short periods of time," Violet murmured, continuing to pour quart after quart.

Dean folded his arms nonchalantly and stepped back, leaning against the bench to watch Violet.

"Yeah, I guess she gets a tune-up more often than most cars. Then again she's not like most cars anyway."

"Mm, yeah. She's special. Not just a set of wheels and a mode of travel."

Dean stared at her then. Not in awe or admiration or anything of that sort; he simply stared. He would never admit to anyone but himself that she was a beautiful creature who could read people and sometimes had a wonderful way with words. Why couldn't he face the fact that he fancied her? Every other girl he's seen with a nice body and easy smile could earn his love for one night and he wasn't ever afraid to share that. But commitment? That scared the shit out of him.

"Why are you out here, Violet? You could be sitting inside, researching with Sam and taking it easy, but you decided to come out here. And for what? To have a friendly chat and get your hands a little dirty?"

Violet shrugged, dumping the remains of the last quart into the funnel. She picked it up gingerly, wiped the spout with the rag, and stuck the dipstick down the tube.

"You're right, I could be inside. But I've found I'm a more outdoorsy sort of girl and I figured you might perhaps like a bit of company. And I find myself to be more of a giver than a taker when it comes to relationships."

Dean, adopting a lighter feel, said, "Yeah well I was doing all right out here by myself, but I guess it is sort of nice to have someone else around."

"Mm, well, you always were my favorite brother, even after the incident in the pub," Violet confessed so simply and teasingly, Dean almost missed it. He didn't even have a chance to recover or think of something witty to say back. Violet slid out the dip stick and made a sound of approval before sticking it back in and making sure I was secure. "Looks good. That should make her happy," Violet finished, wiping her hands on the rag and turning to face Dean. "Are you all done?"

"What? Oh, yeah, everything's done here. With the Impala. You can latch the hood if you want."

"Sure," Violet said as she smiled sweetly. As gingerly as possible and yet with enough force to close it on the first try, Violet did just that and wiped her hands together in a clap. "Bobby said something before I came out here about ordering some pizza for dinner. I suppose it would be in our best interest to get inside and make sure we give our two cents for the toppings we want, huh?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess so," was all Dean could manage to reply. Continuing to chat, they made their way inside. Dean was still having trouble figuring out Violet's comment about him being her favorite brother. Had it been in a friendly sense or a crush sense? He didn't know and frankly didn't feel like giving forth the brain power to deduce it at the moment. He let it lie. If she wanted it to be obvious, she'd make it so.


	34. Violet's Got Game

Within the next week, the trio found themselves in an interesting predicament involving a small child, two angry demons, and a very sad excuse for a house to protect them. Sam waited, poised like a statue and probably just as rock solid, behind the front door, ready for the moment a demon would come smashing through, prepared with a gallon of holy water to melt their skin off. Dean was back to back with Violet, the little girl their axis, and wielded the knife they inherited from Ruby. Violet was attempting to soothe the child while simultaneously watching every single corner of the room.

It wasn't easy.

She too had her own weapon, but it wasn't something she could carry around clipped to her belt. The boys stared at her with looks that told her they were unable to comprehend what she meant when she said she didn't need a weapon. She had told them to simply trust her and that was that.

"We will get you out of here alive, you understand?" Violet spoke pointedly to the girl - no more than six years old - behind her. She blinked back at Violet with terrified, bulbous green eyes and nodded hesitantly. Her hands were playing with the hem of her shirt nervously. At every little noise, her head and eyes darted around furiously.

Rigorous bashing against the door began and Sam was ready for the demon when he barreled through. Sam clocked him a good one, incapacitating him, and finished him off by pouring the entire jug of water all over him. His screams of pain were so shrill the little girl plastered her hands to her ears and screwed up her face.

Suddenly another one shot through the window directly in front of Violet, showering them all with shards of glass. It was a woman this time and she looked nasty, straight out of hell. She sauntered toward Violet in such an arrogant way it made her sick. Dean made to step forward and motion that he'd take care of this one, but Violet threw out an arm to indicate otherwise.

"Get Lily off the floor," she growled, taking a defensive stance Dean had never seen from her before. Without question he followed orders and picked Lily up to set her on the couch shoved against the wall. There was no mistaking her tone.

The woman made a face and without warning launched herself at Violet. Violet ducked quickly and spun to face the woman, fists up. They each exchanged some rapid hand and feet attacks, but none connected. The woman bared her teeth and whipped out a dagger, swiping out with it. Violet, intensely wary of the blade, did a quick back-handspring away from her. The woman threw a round house; Violet fell into a back-bend, sprang back up and forward in a layout, striking the woman in the face with her feet in her descent. The demon spun, snarled, and wiped the blood from her mouth.

She kicked at Violet who jumped in a straddle over her leg, dodging it with ease. The demon sent a wild haymaker at Violet and she fell to the ground in the splits in one swift motion. Before the demon could recover her lost momentum, Violet swung her legs around, preparing to stand back up, and caught the demon's, sending her flat on her back. Violet proceeded to pounce onto the demon, holding her down at the midsection and with her hands clamping her wrists.

She writhed, determined to shove Violet off, but she wasn't having any of that.

"Go to hell," the demon spat in her face, expression livid.

"You first," Violet replied.

There was more wriggling and the demon's hand got free, found the dagger, and beamed it at Lily all in the blink of an eye. Lily screamed at the same time as Violet. Quickly, before things really got out of hand, Violet poured a small bottle of holy salt water into the demon's open mouth. She frantically attempted to spit it out, but the acid-like feeling prevented her from doing much with her throat. Violet then recited very rapid lines from the exorcism incantation and the demon was sucked out and through the floor in a sizzling black whoosh. A strange stinging feeling pulsed briefly behind her eyes and in her throat before dissipating entirely.

Violet immediately sprang to her feet to assess the damage.

"Lily, are you okay?" she asked worriedly, approaching her. She stared up at Violet with wide, teary eyes, and nodded. Initially relieved, Violet then looked at Dean, standing beside her. She let out a perturbed noise, the relief leaving her like air forced from her lungs.

"It looks worse than it is," Dean assured her, grimacing slightly as he gripped the handle of the knife in his side. "That was some pretty impressive stuff, Vi. I wondered how Jo taught you hand-to-hand combat," Dean continued, distracting himself only a tiny bit. He took in a breath and promptly yanked the knife out. He concealed his painful noises with a low groan as he held his side. "Instead of brute force and strength, it's all about flexibility and agility with you."

"Will you make it back to the motel? We've got first aid there, correct?" Violet asked anyone who would answer, ignoring Dean's praise. Sam nodded at her second question.

"Yeah, I'll be all right. I've seen worse, believe me," Dean replied, attempting a chuckle but failing with a distressed gurgle instead.

Hurriedly, they made plans for how to get Lily back to her family and Dean to some urgent first aid attention. Dean protested any time they mentioned splitting up, at which Violet was getting frustrated. Dean wrapped an old shirt he had in the impala around his waist and called that good until they got to the motel. Violet couldn't sway him from making sure Lily was home safely.

"You really should go back to the motel with Sam. I'm more than all right with returning Lily and then waiting to be picked up. It's really okay, Dean," Violet argued.

"No, I'll be okay for a few more minutes. Let's get Lily back with her family and then go back to the motel together. It'll be quick. I'm not about to keel over or anything."

Violet shot Dean a withering gaze.

"Guys, we're wasting time. Violet, just go with what he says and we'll get back to the motel together. It's not worth it at this point. If he says he can make it a few more minutes, then he means it. Please. Just, let's go," Sam intervened, looking back and forth between the two. Regretfully, she agreed and they all piled into the impala.

Violet walked up to the front door of Lily's house with the little girl herself and left the brothers in the car. Lily's mother answered the door appearing distressed, but it was immediately wiped away once she saw Lily. They embraced and it was so magnificent, Violet almost cried. Almost.

Violet was thanked numerous times by Lily's mother and Violet humbly accepted each of them. Violet went to leave and Lily turned away from her mother to tug at Violet's shirt.

"Yes, Lily?"

"Will your boyfriend be okay?" Lily asked innocently from her mother's side.

Violet blushed beet red and hoped to God the boys were too far away to hear the conversation.

"Sweetie, he's not my boyfriend. But yes, he will be perfectly fine." Violet smiled down at her reassuringly.

"Why, what happened to him?" Lily's mother inquired, oblivious.

"Oh, he, uh, broke his finger doing something stupid," Violet fibbed quickly. A knife wound in your side takes a lot more explaining. Thankfully Lily's story was that she ran away and the trio found her, thus returning her home. The truth was stretched pretty thin on that one, but thankfully Lily was game to play along. Mentioning the supernatural, especially when it involved protective parents and small children, never really went over well.

"Oh dear, well I hope it heals up like it's supposed to."

"Yeah, me too. See you, Lily!"

Violet turned tail and got out of there before any more questions were asked.

"So when she threw the knife at Lily, you shielded her from it?" Violet asked, pacing back and forth in front of Dean sitting at the edge of his bed.

"Yeah. There was no way I was going to let that bitch hurt Lily," Dean replied while Sam handed him the sterilized stitching hook and some surgical thread. Dean slowly peeled back the temporary gauze and grimaced until it was completely off his skin. Violet couldn't help but watch, although at the same time really wished she wasn't watching. It pained _her _to see Dean in pain. She figured it was like that for everybody, though. Nothing special.

"Does it really hurt?" Violet asked quietly, curiously. Dean glanced up at her in the middle of preparing the stitching hook and realized she was serious.

"It only really hurts when you hit something vital inside. This time thankfully it just broke a few layers of skin."

"A few layers of skin. God, Dean, you sure do make it sound a lot less realistic. If I ever get stabbed and they don't hit something vital, I'm going to blame you if it really hurts. The last time didn't really count because I passed out before I could really feel a lot of pain. I got lucky on that one."

"Oh don't worry about that. I'll make sure you never have to experience this. Just like for Lily, I'll always be your shield."

At that, Violet had the grand urge to hug him. Just to show some sort of appreciation for his dedication to keep her alive and safe. It was nice to know that he genuinely cared for her at least enough to jump in front of her if danger were ever to come her way. That was something no man in her life had ever considered doing for her before.

"What the heck is that look for? You look like you're about to cry," Dean commented, beginning to stitch closed the gaping maw of the wound in his side. "Hand me that vodka glass, would you?"

Violet hurriedly grabbed it off the table, uncapped it, and handed it over. He took a few very liberal gulps and continued stitching. The vodka couldn't quite stop all the grimacing, but at least he was able to hold back the noises. He didn't want to show off or seem manly or anything, but he didn't want to show weakness in front of Violet. It was like she said, if he even looked in pain over something, it must be bad. Overall, he just didn't want her to worry.

"You really shouldn't worry about it," Sam put in, mirroring Dean's thoughts. He sat in a chair near the bed, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward. "We've been through loads of this stuff in our lifetimes. It's really no big deal. There are worse injuries than a knife in your side."

Dean chuckled, although it sounded more like a weird grunt. "Definitely. Pain is the name of the game for us. You get used to it after a while."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure," Violet replied in an airy voice as sarcastically as possible. "Can't wait for that part of the job."

"What did I just tell you? You won't have to deal with that," Dean said seriously as he tightened everything up and finished his stitching job. He patched it with a few pieces of gauze and proceeded to gingerly slip his shirt back on. Violet caught herself feeling disappointed and tried to shake such thoughts from her mind.

"Yeah, but you two have had each other for years and you still get hurt every once in a while. You can't always be shields," Violet pointed out while pulling up a chair next to Sam.

Dean glanced at Sam, processing Violet's words.

"Yeah, but this is different. I'm not dedicated to him like I am to you. I know he can take care of himself and he's used to the pain. You can take care of yourself, too, but I just… It's just different, all right?"

_What did you really want to say, Dean? _Violet thought.

"I guess I get that," Violet murmured after a few quiet seconds. _He said he's dedicated to me…like what? Just a comrade? A sister? Something else entirely…?_

Everyone became enveloped in their own thoughts, each unaware that they were contemplating the same thing, although on different depths. Violet absently rubbed her suddenly irritated temples, though it did nothing to soothe the bizarre feeling that the itch was inside. She cleared her throat in attempt to banish the fuzziness, but it continued to feel like she had swallowed a dandelion.

"Anyone else want a beer?" Violet asked as she stood to walk to the mini fridge.

"Yes, please," Dean piped up almost immediately. Sam half-heartedly threw up a hand and smiled slightly.

"Me too, I guess. It's been a long day. We all deserve one."

Three bottles clinked between Violet's fingers as she laughed, kicking the small door closed with her booted foot. She promptly handed out the glass bottles and sank back down into her chair.

"And only one," Dean joked, although he had a seriousness to his eyes when he gazed at Violet. Violet contemplated his stare thoroughly, keeping eye contact longer than necessary, even though it didn't seem to bother Dean one bit. His hazel irises held secrets she couldn't decode. She hoped one day, maybe, to know and be a part of his mysteries.

Violet blinked her brown eyes and Dean quickly looked away, the moment broken. This dismayed Violet more than it should have; or at least, that's what she told herself.

She took a mighty swig of her beer and knew it would be a long night.

That evening after all the lights had been flicked off and good night's were exchanged, Dean found himself thinking in the darkness.

"_Will your boyfriend be okay?"_

"_Sweetie, he's not my boyfriend. But yes, he will be perfectly fine."_

Little did Violet know, Dean had heard the whole conversation. It didn't serve any kind of good in his battle, though. He couldn't rightly deduce whether Violet had sounded disappointed when she said she wasn't his boyfriend or not. Had she been embarrassed that Lily had assumed such a thing or entirely indifferent about it all? _One of these days I'm just going to have to ask her or something, _Dean thought exasperatedly. He sighed and rolled over. _That won't happen though. She'll have to be the one to bring it up; I won't be the one to ask first._


	35. Intimate Truths

**Intimate Truths**

Dean awoke with a jolt, eyes springing open to scan his surroundings and discover the cause of his waking up. He registered in his bleary, foggy-headedness that it was still in the wee hours of the morning based off of the lack of sunlight and copious amounts of moonlight beaming through the windows. A sluggish thought made his hand slip under his pillow and grasp the handle of his gun in preparation, just in case. He felt a rustle against his chest and immediately became alert, although his eyes were still working to catch up and shake away the blurs.

Violet lay there, delicately curled up against him. He was stunned; there were no suitable reactions or words that existed to scratch the surface of explanation. He simply blinked down at her and - removing his hand from his gun - drew back the covers, which somehow solidified that she was indeed tucked up to him in an intimate and somehow innocent way. Violet stirred and tilted her head up to stare at him with such a look in her eyes he couldn't tear his own eyes from her if he tried. Her previously peaceful expression transformed into a deeply troubled one when her realization kicked in.

She gave a small distressed noise that sounded on the verge of tears as she bent her head down in shame.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, I don't know what I'm doing…I couldn't sleep," she mumbled rapidly. Dean could smell alcohol heavy on her breath, weighing down her tongue.

"You had more than one beer, didn't you?" Dean asked her softly, omitting the accusatory tone.

Violet wrapped her arms around herself and practically stuffed her face into the pillow.

"I did, but it doesn't matter, doesn't matter. Resist…no. Need to, but can't. I-I thought of what you said, only one, and don't be afraid and have confidence, but I can't do it, I can't. The nightmares, they were just so bad I had to do something. The worst they've ever been tonight, just can't handle it," she mumbled again, utter shame creating her tone. He could hear the tears building in her eyes.

When Dean didn't reply, Violet whimpered and made to roll from the bed in attempt to find her own again in defeat and disgrace, but Dean reached an arm around her to stop her. Gently he turned her back to face him and held her close to his chest. The tears rolled, and although the sobs were so quiet they were essentially nonexistent, the quivering and shaking Violet did made up for it.

Dean didn't have comforting words. He had absolutely no idea what to say, just like the first time Violet had opened up to him about her bad dreams, but unlike last time, he now didn't even know where to begin. All he could do was be a presence for her, help her mend the brokenness the nightmares had caused her to feel. At the moment, she didn't seem to mind whether he said anything or not; his arms provided for her what he couldn't say.

Initially he felt strange about the predicament he found himself in. Ultimately though, he was grateful he could give Violet what she needed, regardless of what that entailed.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry...thank you…" Violet murmured softer and softer as she repeated the words over and again. Her shaking gradually decreased until Dean could hear her breathing in and out in little snores. Her muscles relaxed, but Dean didn't release his hold on her. It all felt too good and her hair smelled too good and her body and presence right next to his was incomparable. He never wanted it to stop. In his mind, he was cursing morning before it even came, because then he knew he had to surrender her to reason.

Half of him wished he could hold on to those pleasant thoughts and eventually make them come to life, but the other half was too weak and he gave in to the notion that the beer was making him think crazy things. He would never forget that night, though. He'd bring it up in his private moments but never utter a word to anyone. And that's just how it is.

That's just how Dean is.


	36. Winding Things Up

"Up and at 'em, Dean," an apathetic voice said. Dean twisted under the covers and rubbed his eyes, the previous night coming back to him in sluggish waves. Suddenly he sat up and scouted the rest of the bed for Violet, alarmed at Sam possibly seeing them like they were in their stolen moment last night.

Sam regarded him curiously from the poor excuse for a table in a way that bordered concern.

"Did you lose something?" Sam inquired slowly, articulating carefully. The sound of the shower starting up in the bathroom delivered Dean immediate relief along with the lack of a Violet in his bed. The image and feel of her held in his arms hit him full force then and he reveled in it internally.

"No, I just had some crazy dreams, that's all. Just making sure this is the real world," Dean replied unconvincingly.

"Okay then. Anyway, what's the plan for today? More jobs? Back to Bobby's?"

Dean wasn't sure if the shower was just cheap and boisterous or if he was for some reason honing in on it because of the fact that it was Violet. He attempted to shake such foolish thoughts from his mind.

"Uh, Bobby's I think. Since we've got some more valuable information about why the demons are banning together and popping up so often I figure we tell Bobby in person. It's better that way."

"Yeah. Hopefully this will lead us closer to when the devil is going to show up," Sam agreed, tacking out something on his laptop.

"It will be good for a number of reasons," Dean murmured, his gaze locking in on the bathroom door. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it or if he could actually hear Violet singing. He wasn't sure what to think of that. He really wasn't sure what to think of anything anymore. Last night was a monkey wrench in all the thoughts he'd fabricated about him and Violet.

_Comrade or love-interest? Damn emotions and confusion. This is the reason why I never got into that love stuff; it takes effort and more thinking than I really want to do. Why can't it just be obvious and without these ridiculous mind games? God, my head hurts. I want a beer._

Dean then proceeded to mosey over to the mini fridge and grope around for the beverage in question. After a couple unsuccessful grabs, he looked inside and found it to be barren. Empty. No beer.

The rest of last night rushed to meet him.

Violet came out of the bathroom and let loose a cloud of humid steam into the room. She still had a towel in her hands and was attempting to dry off her stringy, wet hair. She caught Dean searching the fridge for beer and blushed deeply, although she hoped she could pass it off as being flushed from the hot shower.

_I barely remember what happened last night. All I can think is that I drank a little too much and crawled into bed with Dean. I hope to God my inebriated actions didn't screw up our relationship. Please, Dean, please don't be mad at me or weird with me. _

Sam looked over at them looking at each other while Dean tried to harvest a beer from the otherwise empty fridge. He turned back to his computer.

"There should still be some in there. We didn't drink all of it last night," Sam commented, scrolling down a webpage.

Dean stared up at Violet who stared back down at him almost pleadingly. He could easily explain why he was having such an unlucky time retrieving a beer and could also just as easily make Violet the one at complete fault, which she was anyway. But she really, _really_ didn't want him to say a word about it, especially because even though it was assuredly innocent, any way you sliced it it sounded bad.

"Ah, I think I'll pass on the beer. We need to hit the road soon anyway," Dean played off simply, shutting the mini fridge and incongruously winking at her. It left her stupefied.

_What am I now, a love-sick cow? _she scolded herself while remaining reasonably indifferent. She began to pack up her things in silence.

Half an hour later they were piling into the impala, preparing to make the trek back to ground zero - or more commonly known as Bobby's house.

Most of the ride was pleasantly quiet until Violet piped up with a teasing tone.

"So, what's it like to be brought back to life? Sam first, I think. His death was less excruciating."

Dean glanced at Violet in the rear-view mirror with a scowl. He spied the book held protectively in her grasp and motioned for Sam to confiscate it, which he did promptly. Violet pouted and made a dissatisfied noise before crossing her arms.

"Don't tell me you're into throwing tantrums now," Dean remarked dryly. "Where did you get that book anyway? Didn't we tell you not to go doing stupid things like that? I swear we taught you better."

Violet shrugged innocently and leaned forward.

"I woke up early this morning and decided to go out for a coffee. To my joy, there was a bookstore next to the coffee shop and I decided to take a gander. I found that particular book on the discount rack and since I knew more of the story behind them and Mr. Shirley, I gave in to my curiosity and bought it. I don't see how it's that big of a deal. I just wanted to know what you guys were up to before I became a part of the family."

"Yeah, well, it's nothing important," Sam said listlessly. He glanced at Dean before speaking next. "There's a lot of stuff between the covers of those books that we would rather not relive."

His tone was so solemn Violet just had to drop the sassy-pants act.

"I'm sorry," she apologized genuinely. "I really was just curious. I guess reading it from the outside as opposed to actually living it does make a difference, huh?"

"Exactly. Think of it this way; if someone wrote a book on the worst night of your life and then published it for the world to see, how would you feel? To them and everyone else it's just a story, sure, but you know the truth. To see it written down on paper by some stranger is unrealistic and pretty close to impossible but at the same time you are forced to believe it because you know it actually happened. It solidifies things," Dean explained harshly. He regarded her in the rear-view mirror for a few seconds and thought of another thing to scold her for.

"And don't ever go off on your own, no matter how far away something is. I don't care if it's across the street; always take one of us with you or send us to do or get whatever you need. All those demons need is a minute or two and you are gone. Game over. Everything we've done to protect you up until this point would be wasted. Understand?" Dean continued with the gruff tone, but at the same time he was honestly concerned for her safety. For him it was easier to show it in this way, although most times it didn't get the point across all in one piece.

"God, Dean, you don't have to talk to me like I'm some little girl. I get that you feel responsible for whatever happens to me, but I am very capable of taking care of myself now. You know that. I'm not the old Violet anymore."

Violet sat back with a huff, crossing her arms again and staring out the window at all the trees rushing by. Dean felt immediately conflicted, which was a somewhat new feeling for him.

_Didn't I virtually explain that I care for her immensely? Perhaps I was too forward and rough, but how else can I tell her how dangerous it is out there for her? God, here come more complications. Lovely. _

"Hey, I'm only saying-"

"Dean, please be quiet. I've heard enough. This conversation has already ended," Violet cut in, surprising both brothers with the unusual, un-Violet-like attitude.

Dean's brow furrowed angrily at her complete lack of respect and he went to tell her just what he thought of it, but no sound would come from his throat. His expression quickly turned to one of panic as his mouth hung open, unable to produce more than the whoosh of breath.

Sam glanced over at him expectantly, obviously having waited for his response to Violet. It only took him a second to figure out what had happened. He turned in his seat and stared Violet right in the eyes.

"Violet, let him go. Reverse whatever you just said. Please. I know he's annoying sometimes but this is unnecessary," Sam asked her quietly. Dean gave him a disapproving look.

Her gaze transferred back and forth between the boys, her expression indifferent. She sighed heavily then and rubbed her forehead with the whole of her hand.

"God, this power is getting on my very last nerve. Speak, Dean, if you want," Violet tried, her voice irritated and tired.

"Violet?" Dean tested, thrilled to have his speech ability return. His eyes floated up to the rear-view where he found himself staring at Violet in her brooding ponderousness. "I didn't mean to talk to you like you were a little girl. But you do understand what I'm saying, don't you?"

"Yes," she replied after a time, her eyes still refusing to meet his reflected in the mirror.

"We just don't want anything to happen to you that could be preventable," Dean explained, lightening his tone considerably. He attempted to be softer in his delivery. Apparently it worked because Violet's brown eyes finally flickered up to match his gaze.

"Yeah, I understand. I'm sorry. I'm just high-strung because…" Violet sighed hard and it was more of a frustrated noise directed at herself. "I've just been thinking about my life in the next year. And wondering if I'll even live to see the end of it."

The three of them let this confession sink it thoroughly.

"We'll make sure you survive this next year," Dean put in, beginning to think for himself what the next few months might hold for them.

"Thanks, Dean. I like that thought. But in the end you can't protect me from myself."

No one had a suitable response. Even Dean couldn't come up with a cliché or snarky comeback to combat her comment with. Unfortunately, though, it was more of an observation than a simple comment, and everyone immediately knew it. Conversation ceased then and there.

Eventually Violet managed to fall asleep amongst the all-encompassing silence in the cab of the impala and all the while Dean continued to ponder her words.


	37. Confrontation and Provocation

Dean pulled the car gracefully into the gas station and parked it expertly beside a pump. He leaned over the bench seat, grabbed Violet's knee, and shook it vigorously.

"Wake up, sunshine. Pit stop."

"_Whoa!" _Violet yelped, her whole body jumping off the seat as she jerked awake. Immediately she discovered the source of the attack and stared him down. "_Dean!_ Don't _do _that!"

"What? Why?" he asked, his voice lacking emotion as he stepped out of the car to begin replenishing the impala's depleted supply of gasoline. Violet righted her jacket around her, ran her fingers through her knotted tresses, and proceeded to nondexterously get out of the car. Dean chuckled unashamedly while Violet righted herself once again, giving him a frumpish look.

"My knees are ticklish if you put pressure on the right spots. And besides, there are much better ways to wake up a sleeping person." Violet strutted up to him and punched him in the shoulder for good measure. Dean chuckled again.

"Yes, there are, but that's never any fun, now, is it? Just be glad I didn't wake you like I wake up Sam. I could have slapped your chest."

They looked at each other strangely as Dean processed what it would mean to slap Violet on the chest. His face was sucked of all emotion.

"Never mind. Just be grateful."

Violet's reply was to stick her tongue out. Sam came up behind them with a paper bag in his hand and a grin on his face.

"Kissing and making up, are we?"

Dean and Violet exchanged a quick, ambiguous glance, both wondering whether Sam had somehow known about the night they shared in Dean's bed and this was his way of bringing it up. Sam's gaze shifted between them, his own expression equally as uncertain before he shook his head, disregarding it all completely. It wasn't worth it to crack that one open. Yet.

"Anyway, it's someone else's turn to hit the can."

"Oh, it's definitely my turn," Violet put in.

"That's fine, I'm good for the road. Just don't get into any trouble this time, all right?" Dean warned Violet with a hint of humor tied into his tone. "You've got quite a track record with gas station bathrooms."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya," Violet said, spinning to saunter away and waving a hand over her shoulder.

Dean slid his card into the reader and punched in the gas type before withdrawing the nozzle from its holster to fill up the gas tank.

"She sure is sassy when she first wakes up, huh?" Sam commented, leaning back against the car with his arms crossed lazily over his chest. Dean laughed shortly.

"Yeah, and childish too. She stuck her tongue out at me."

Sam smiled to himself out of Dean's peripheral.

"Maybe she was feeling flirtatious."

Dean gave an amused sound.

"Nope. I know flirting when I see it."

"Oh you do, huh?"

Dean turned to him then.

"Yes, Sam, I do. How many times have I been rejected by a woman I've approached? Close to none. That's because I can read them and can tell when they want it. And more importantly when they want it from _me,_" Dean explained. "I mean, just look at me," he finished with a smirk. Sam shoved his shoulder and laughed.

"I suppose there's reason for everything."

"Yeah, and tell me it's not my dashing good looks," Dean exaggerated, spinning back to face the pump and read the steadily climbing numbers on the screen.

"Yeah. So I've noticed you haven't been practicing your charm a whole lot lately, even when we were visiting bars every other night," Sam commented innocently, but simultaneously with curiosities to fulfill. He wasn't blind to the way Dean looked at Violet when she wasn't paying attention. He wasn't oblivious to Violet's wandering gaze and the glimmer in her eyes when Dean talked directly to her. Apparently, though, they were either both honestly ignorant of the other's subtle hints, or simply decided to pretend they didn't exist. Regardless, Sam was determined to get to the bottom of it. He knew how this game played out if done incorrectly or it ended up neglected.

Sam could see the slight change in Dean's demeanor as he rapidly figured out how to neutrally answer the question. Sam smiled to himself. _Gotcha._

"Just haven't been in the game, that's all. Too busy and too worried about keeping track of everyone and everything to really think about that," Dean replied evenly, deciding last minute not to face Sam for fear of somehow giving something away.

"You've had many, many years dealing with taking care of me on the road, though. Why's it so different now?" He knew he was being evil with that one. He already knew the exact reason why and yet he was practically forcing Dean to voice it himself.

It took him longer than Sam thought necessary to process and spit out his answer. He was still reeling from the first question. Obviously he didn't think he was ever going to be confronted like this.

"I know that. It's just been different since Violet loaded up with us. Trying to keep myself and her alive is a task."

"_Was_ a task."

"Whatever. I'm just not in it. Things are different. Why the hell does it even matter?" Dean finally lashed. Sam had just been waiting for it. Typical reaction. Dean shoves himself back into his shell and snaps at anyone who asks him about it. Sam had been expecting it much earlier than this, however. Absently he wondered if Violet was somehow softening his heart.

"Just curious. I just noticed you had decreased drastically on your usual Dean-bar behavior. Wondered if maybe someone was in your sights. That's all," Sam summarized innocently, beginning to make his way around the car to slip in while they waited for Violet to return. Plant the seed and run away.

Dean decided to not respond. He removed the nozzle from the gas filler hole and waited impatiently for the receipt to print. Sam drummed his fingers on the dash between glances at the entrance to the gas station. His mind floated to memories of the last time Violet had gone inside alone and come out demon-possessed. He knew it wasn't possible that she could be possessed again, but demons seemed magnetized to her even when they knew they couldn't take her for a joyride. Besides, they were most likely ordered to capture her than kill her. Though that scared both brothers equally, and there isn't much that they're afraid of.

"Hey, Dean, is it just me or does it seem like-"

"Violet's taking longer than usual? Yeah. I was just thinking that," Dean muttered in a tone that portrayed him as pensive in a concerned way. When it was about Violet, that type of voice tended to pop up more often, Sam had noticed.

"We should go check on her," Sam said. Without hesitation, he stepped from the car, fell in stride with Dean, and they headed in with murderous intent. If anything or any_one_ was preventing Violet from returning to the impala, they were going to deal with it with in any means possible.

Just minutes before, Violet found herself backed up against the grimy, broken tile walls of the bathroom with a man possessing strange eyes holding her gaze like it was an object one could grab. She felt no fear; in fact she felt rather nothing. It was as if an obstruction was preventing the response to process throughout her body. She wondered vaguely if the man's eyes were the cause. Such bizarre eyes he had.

"Oh, my dear Violet. That is what your mother named you, isn't it?" he purred with a subtle maliciousness. Violet gulped and nodded, that dandelion lodged in her throat once again and the pain radiated behind her eyes like smoldering smoke. It was all so acute it was almost numbing.

The man smiled with one side of his mouth and brought up a hand to caress her cheek. For the life of her, she simply could not tear her eyes away from his. _What is happening to me?_

His hands weren't forcing her back against the wall; he wasn't close enough to achieve such a thing with his body and yet she felt pressure on her chest, seeming to restrain her, hold her back.

"You are just as beautiful as I pictured. You will suit your role as queen perfectly beside Lucifer. All the females will no doubt envy you immensely, seated at the right hand of their king and with unmatchable beauty," he continued, his tone low and enticing yet laced with poison.

"Why are you here?" Violet asked, her voice sounding ridiculous and stupid. It was as difficult to force words from her throat as it was to chop a tree down with a butter knife.

"You already know the answer to that, my dear. I'm here to make sure certain steps were taken and that you are being prepared for your seat next to our devil. I see that the demons I sent after Lily met up with you and Vanessa delivered what she needed to. Everything is going according to plan. Oh it's all shaping up marvelously."

"What?" Violet murmured, unable to bring her voice louder than a few notches above silent. No way could she scream for Dean or Sam. "Lily was a ploy?"

"Oh yes, she was never in any real danger. I had to attract you to a certain place I knew you'd show up and that the package would be transferred to the intended receiver." He was sly and he knew it. Her resistance to him was gradually weathering away; she knew if she didn't get away soon, she'd irrevocably be under his control and power and nothing Dean or Sam could do would change that.

"Package?"

He nodded languidly, abiding the eye contact.

"Your power is not mature enough. The seed was nurtured later than intended. Thus we had to further the process by other less natural means. That burning behind your eyes and feeling in your throat? That is the work of us within you. We are turning you to us, beginning on the inside and working our way out. You are still too weak; soon, however, you will be able to use your ability without strong emotion propelling you. In time, with a simple thought, you could bring someone to their knees. Doesn't that sound fantastic?"

Violet had just enough strength left to shake her head slowly at his appalling words.

"No. I will not. Lucifer will never be my king," she breathed.

The man seized her throat then, baring his teeth at her blasphemous comment.

"You will bow to him one day and call him yours, I assure you."

"No," Violet gasped, her vision thinning and eyelids fluttering.

Then she felt her feet leave the floor.


	38. Gas Station Situation, Take 2

Dean led Sam through the store, his stride determined and unyielding. When they approached the bathrooms, Dean didn't bother to knock. He kicked the door open, nearly off its already disintegrating hinges, and quickly drank in the scene. His jaw tightened when the man's head turned. Violet was shoved against the wall, feet dangling and kicking feebly.

"Azazel?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Son of a bitch," Dean growled, lunging at him with enough vigor to stop a freight train. Azazel didn't have ample enough time to figure out a counter attack and Dean crashed into him, sending them both to the floor. Violet slammed down on her feet and collapsed the rest of the way to the ground. The thing that alarmed Dean the most was the fact that she hadn't resumed her interrupted breathing.

This thought left him unguarded and Azazel took his shot. His fist smashed into the side of Dean's face, rendering his nose bloody. Sam whipped out the knife and sprung forward, ready to bury the thing in the yellow-eyed demon's ribcage, but he was too noisy and slow. Azazel flung his arm out and sent Sam's body racing toward the opposite wall. His head hammered back against the tile, shattering one to pieces, and he slid to the floor, instantly unconscious.

"Leave us alone, you bastard," Dean snarled, pinning Azazel effectively to the ground and rocketing punches to his face until his knuckles were bleeding. Azazel wrestled off Dean's hold and managed a hardy knee to Dean's gut. Azazel sprang up and began kicking Dean in the stomach. Dean grunted at the assault, but he wouldn't put up with it for long.

Violet's wellbeing was acute on his radar and he wasn't currently getting any signal from her. His heart flipped in panic as he thought perhaps she was gone. For good this time.

Dean took hold of Azazel's foot mind-swing and jerked it around, twisting Azazel to crash into the perpendicular wall. Dean scrambled forward on hands and knees to retrieve the knife from beside Sam's limp figure. Rapidly he swiveled around on his knees, jumped to his feet, and selected a vital organ to burst. Azazel caught his hand just before the tip of the blade pierced skin. He smiled darkly.

"You never were fast enough for me," he remarked, quickly seizing Dean's jacket and thrusting him away, back against the wall. His head bashed at the tile, but he didn't relent. There was no way he was letting the yellow-eyed son of a bitch leave with Violet slung over his shoulder like some prize to be won. He would die before he allowed that to pass.

In an open second, Dean launched the hand clutching the dagger up at Azazel's head. Again Azazel thwarted his attempt almost effortlessly. Dean's jaw tightened further as his frustration built rapidly like roaring fire through a dry forest.

A strange look crossed over Azazel's face then, removing his focus almost completely from his struggle to kill Dean. Dean allowed himself to follow Azazel's gaze down to his ankle, where a small, strong set of hands gripped on for dear life. Violet. Meant as a distraction. Dean took the nearly nonexistent window of time, brought the knife up, and plunged it down where Azazel's heart would be. His head snapped around, realizing his amateur mistake, and a continuous wail of pain reverberated through all their heads.

His yellow eyes dissolved to reveal a mundane green color before rolling up into his head, the body finally free of a malicious host. It sank to the ground, lifeless. There was a good chance any pieces of the human subconscious that may have initially remained were already long gone.

Wasting not a second more, Dean fell to his knees beside Violet and reflexively cradled her to him. She could barely support the weight of her own head by her neck and her eyes were fluttering in effort to keep them open. She trained her sluggish gaze on Dean and he let himself stare back. Gently he brushed the hair off her face and wiped the small beads of sweat away.

Violet indolently reached up a quivering hand to grasp his as tight as she could manage. She dragged it over to rest on her left breast, just over where her heart was. Usually he might be hesitant at giving in to such an action, but Violet had done it with all innocent intentions, so he found no need to fret.

"See, Dean? I'm still alive…" she whispered, cracking a small smile up at him as he witnessed the sluggish beat of her heart with his own sense of touch. "I'm just…tired…that's all…"

"You can't take a nap now, but I'll let you later as long as you wake up. Maybe I'll sleep next to you, keep an eye on you," he murmured, hinting at their shared night not days ago. He smiled genuinely down at her, seeing an unguarded look floating in her irises. Without thinking, Violet brought her free hand up to his face and delicately brushed his lips with the pad of her thumb. Her smile grew.

"I haven't seen that smirk in a while. I'm glad it's still around."

"I'm glad _you_ are still around," Dean replied quickly, a strange feeling best described as giddiness welling up inside him. He didn't have his mental guard up enough to even care what it meant or try to convince himself it shouldn't be how he should react to her. Screw thought. His emotions were getting the better of him and for the first time, he let them take him. Like an inner tube on the lazy river, he just went with it.

"Is Sam okay?"

"Yeah, I think he'll be all right. He might have a head ache and a bruise to show for it, but he'll be fine. Been through worse, as I'm sure you already know from our constant telling you."

Violet gave an amused noise, her smile still lingering.

"Yeah, I do know."

There was a moment where neither of them uttered a thing and it could have been seconds or hours, but they had no idea. They simply reveled in the moment and stared at each other.

"What did you call that guy?" Violet asked breathily, breaking the content silence.

"His name was Azazel. The yellow-eyed demon. He's higher in the rankings than the ones with black eyes," Dean explained. Violet glanced away no doubt to get a glimpse of the man who had previously intended to do who knows what with her. Bad things is all she knew. Her expression grew nervous and crestfallen.

"What is it?" Dean asked gently, certain he'd never used a tone like that before with anyone and slightly weirded out by the fact he was using it in that moment. Then again, he'd never really been around someone like Violet, so…

"_Azazel_… I think… Dean, I think he's my father." Her eyes filled with unrestrained tears and although none spilled, Dean proceeded to hug her closer to his chest anyway.

"You shouldn't be ashamed," Dean began whispering. "You didn't choose your parents. He thought he was going to take you away from us, but that didn't happen, all right? I'm still here to protect you from all that."

"Yeah… If you'd have come a few minutes later, I probably wouldn't be here. His eyes were so strong…I almost didn't have enough strength left to resist when you burst in. A little longer and I'd have succumbed to his will. God, how disgusting…" She breathed in deeply, her heart settling down into a rhythmic, consistent beat beneath her and Dean's entwined fingers. Her eyelids began fluttering again and Dean knew if he didn't try to keep her awake, she was going to fall under the wave of sleepiness hovering thickly around her.

"Stay awake, Vi. Try to stay awake," he told her in a firmer voice. Sam stirred opposite them then, groaned, and rubbed the back of his head. He blinked the blurs from his eyes and stood slowly to walk over to the two of them. Nonchalantly and inconspicuously, Dean removed his hand from Violet's and propelled himself to his feet, carrying Violet bridal-style.

"Hey," Sam grumbled.

"Hey. Took a pretty hard hit, huh? Glad you're still here with us, though. Like this one," Dean said, motioning with his head to Violet.

"Hi, Sam," Violet murmured, cracking an eyelid slightly.

"We should get her to Bobby's ASAP. She might have a concussion so we can't let her fall asleep on the way there. How far are we?" Dean asked briskly, starting to make his way out to the impala.

"Uh, last time I checked, we were about an hour away," Sam replied, still semi-out of it and rapidly attempting to reach full mental capacity.

_Crap,_ Dean thought. _A whole hour and we have to keep her awake? This should be interesting. _

"One of us should sit in the back with her, keep her propped up and talk to her to help her stay at least mostly awake," Dean said, voicing his thoughts as they came. Sam didn't hesitate in responding.

"I'll drive then."

Dean gave him a look that they didn't have time for. He shook his head to clear it and gave Sam a different one.

"Are you sure? Even with your head and everything?"

Sam returned his look. "Yes. I'll be fine, Dean. I've been half dead and driving before."

"All right then. Get us to Bobby's as fast as you can."

Without further discussion, Dean maneuvered himself and Violet onto the back seat, holding an arm around her waist and leaning her against his entire right side. Her head lolled and rested on his shoulder.

"Violet? You're still awake, right?"

"Yup," she replied in a playful tone.

"Keep that up. We'll be at Bobby's in no time."

"I think I can fight it. It's getting easier and easier to resist wanting to fall asleep."

"Good. That's what we need to hear. If you feel like you need to throw up at any time, say something and we'll pull over for you."

"I 'preciate it," she said, her voice still sounding weak and tired, albeit she seemed full of banter.

Dean was happy that he was able to sit directly next to her like that; not because of the situation she was in, but because he couldn't get enough of _her_. It was just like the night she crawled into his bed. Her scent, her feel, her presence…it was all so sweet. He was unquenchable for her.

"Hey, Dean?" she asked, her tone still impish.

"Yeah?"

"You're my hero," she replied, grinning sleepily. She giggled a little bit, too.

"Eh, you're half asleep. You don't know what you're saying," Dean said, chuckling a little bit himself.

"Oh, and, Dean…?" she asked in her delirium.

"Yes?"

"Can we quit stopping at seedy gas stations? The next one may very well get me killed."

Dean laughed in a serious way and took her request into deep consideration.

While they chatted back and forth, Sam smiled to himself at the wheel, occasionally glancing up in the rear-view just to be sure. His "suspicions" were being confirmed before his eyes.

_Get him, Violet, _Sam thought encouragingly. _Melt the shell around his heart and steal it from him. Give him something to live for._


	39. Angel vs Demon

"You know, beer doesn't actually appeal to my taste buds," Violet commented, holding up half a bottle of the substance in question. She was lounging back in one of the ratty chairs that had a home in Bobby's office. Dean claimed the couch with his whole body, leaving Sam to find the least comfortable, plastic chair to drape himself over. Bobby had not yet made his face known to the morning sun, so the trio decided to have an impromptu chill time/pow wow together.

"What would you prefer instead, if you had an unlimited bar and bartender at your beck and call?" Dean asked quizzically, taking a swig from his own brown colored bottle.

Violet tapped a thoughtful, sharp finger-nailed digit to her chin momentarily as she pondered seriously her response.

"I find I like brandy slushies. Ooh, or even mojitos! Mm, and a nice glass of wine tends to wrap up a meal quite perfectly, too, although I'd never pass up a classic margarita, either," she mused, suddenly seeming disappointed in the beer still in her bottle. Dean could tell she wished she could change it to one of the things she mentioned and chuckled dryly at her attempt to do so with her eyes.

"Depending on the situation, I'm usually game for anything with alcohol, but a nice cold beer at the end of a long day just clinches it for me," Dean replied with his own ponderings.

"I'd have to agree with Dean on that one," Sam said, drinking down the last dregs in his bottle. Violet sighed and finished off her beer with a disheartened scrunch to her face.

"I guess I've never much cared for the taste anyway. Since day one, I've always drank it for the stupor-like effect, not the pleasure of it tasting good."

"Typically that's how it goes with alcohol," Sam put in while crossing his arms lazily over the back of his reversed chair.

"Well I guess I'm not typical, then," Violet replied, waggling her eyebrows briefly. The three of them laughed in an amused chorus.

"Mornin', idjits," came a rumble from the dim doorway. Three pairs of eyes rounded on the perpetually frumpy, bearded face.

"Good morning," everyone replied simultaneously.

"Care to join us?" Dean asked, motioning with his beer-holding hand to Bobby's usual perch at his desk. Bobby opened his mouth, but he was unceremoniously interrupted by fluttering wings and a monotonous voice.

"This morning couldn't get any better," Bobby grunted, folding his arms over his plaid-covered chest.

"I have news," Castiel informed them unnecessarily.

"Let me guess; it's bad news," Dean inquired almost mockingly before sighing. His eyes flickered to Violet for a split second and then back to Castiel. _It's about her, isn't it?_

"This shouldn't be a surprise to you, Dean," Cas replied evenly, obviously having not caught his sarcasm.

"Let us have it," Dean responded flatly, sitting up to lean his elbows on his knees.

Violet, Sam, Dean and Bobby had their gazes trained firmly on Cas's face as he explained the current predicament to them.

"There have been multiple demon uprisings in major cities to the east. We're not sure where they've all come from so quickly or how, but we do know they are preparing for Lucifer to show his face. I estimate it will be between one month and three months from now. The demons are rallying together and getting ready, so I strongly suggest you do the same."

"I haven't seen anything that would point to demon activity anywhere on the continent. No electrical storms or nothin'. What leads you to believe that there have been uprisings?" Bobby asked expertly. He'd only just risen from bed, but he had immediately kicked into hunter mode. That's how the life goes. In most instances, you can't trust you're safe even while you're sleeping. A hunter is 24/7 constantly on the job.

Castiel regarded Bobby with the same uninterested expression he always wore.

"I think we can all agree that my sources are more credible than your books and gadgets. I would not lie about something such as this. The demons are smarter this time, keeping quiet and staying low in order to remain as undetected as possible. I have no doubt this will eventually grow into an untreatable problem. The climax of this war is approaching rapidly. Bobby, Dean, Sam…Violet…you all need to figure out now which side you are on."

Violet angrily reciprocated Castiel's glance of disapproval pointed blatantly in her direction when he mentioned her name. He'd said it like it was poison on his tongue and she was a virus in need of immediate extermination. Dean saw the exchange and desired to say something, but Violet beat him to the punch. Her posture was suddenly not as carefree and lounge-like; it was more rigid and practically murderous.

"I know what side I'm on and I do not intend to change," Violet hissed, thoroughly pissed off at the way the angel treated her. She wasn't going to continue submitting any longer. "Keep your judgmental thoughts and looks to yourself, you cowardly servant. I know I'm in good company and they would just as willingly die for me as I would for them. They trust me and they fight for me. What do you have, angel? Some fluffy clouds and wings?"

Castiel was in her face in a blur of beige. His expression was the same save for the rumpled look his brow had adopted.

"Do not test me, vile demon. I may have shown mercy and grace to you previously because of your ties with the Winchesters, but no longer. I will kill you if I deem it worthy of my time. You are no match for me and my comrades."

"Guys…" Sam warned, desiring to step forward and break it up. Neither of the adversaries looked away from the other, let alone blinked. Violet's jaw was clenched so rigidly it seemed her temples might burst from her head. The air was so palpable with their intense hate for each other, it could almost be seen. After was felt like eons, Castiel stepped away, but not in surrender.

"You waste my time," he spat at Violet. Dean's eyes widened at the unusual excess of emotion he exhibited. Castiel then turned to glance at each male in the room. "I must go. You have heard all I have to tell. And as for you," Cas said, glaring stonily at Violet, "give me reason to kill you; next time I promise I_ will_ not hesitate."

Cas gave a brief nod of goodbye to Dean and with that, he was gone. As abruptly and quickly as always.

After a few moments of strange silence, Sam decided to verbalize his thoughts.

"Phew, that was something, huh?"

"He really hates you, doesn't he?" Dean asked ineptly.

Violet shot Dean a hooded, long-suffering look. Her rejoinder was as dry as bad cornbread.

"I didn't think it was obvious."

Sam's shoulders sagged at his unrecognized attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

"I've never seen him show that much emotion before. He must really not like you at all," Dean continued unsympathetically, chuckling as if amused. Typical.

"Well, I would go as far to say that if he would kill me with only one reason and no hesitation, yeah, I think he probably hates me." She sighed exasperatedly and slumped back down into her chair, arms out and legs apart unflatteringly. "I really tried to be his friend, but he's so bent on the whole 'demons and angels don't get along' thing it seems he won't even consider giving it a try."

"Yeah, well, that's our good old angel for ya," Bobby put in, effectively breaking up the conversation. "Anyway, I don't know if I believe everythin' he said about the demon uprisings, but I'll keep a closer eye that sort of thing. He's been actin a little funny lately, but that's not surprising." There was a pause and Violet could almost see a loading bar above his head go from "loading…" to "complete!" "Oh, almost forgot," he began again, moseying over to the desk to shuffle through some papers. "I found an interesting article in the paper regarding a man in Cicero, Indiana." Bobby promptly tossed down the newspaper for them to see.

"At first I didn't think anything of it. A man alone in his garage, killed by power saw. Could be just a typical home accident. Whatever. But I did some calling around and it sounds like other bizarre stuff like this is happening in the same area. I say check it out."

Dean looked up at Bobby with a strange expression bordering on excitement and utter terror. Violet found it was quite the odd combination to see contorting Dean's handsome features.

"Yeah, I know," Bobby said tiredly, sighing. "You can go see her while you're there, if you like. Maybe she knows something."

"Her? Who?" Violet asked abrasively, interest piqued to a dangerous height.

"Lisa Braden," Dean explained slowly, as if it were cumbersome to speak her name. Violet couldn't tell if he was happy at the thought of seeing her or dismayed. He seemed to be warring with himself on the same question.

"The best weekend in your life, eh, eh?" Sam mused, elbowing Dean in the ribs and completely intent on making him feel embarrassed. Violet immediately flushed with a rage she didn't know she possessed, but passed it off on the sexually oriented comment from Sam.

"Oh, I see," was all she could manage to squeak out.

Sam smirked to himself, and the smirk grew wider as Violet got redder.

_It seems I've brought the little green monster to the table. Oh, this is going to make Violet so jealous. What an interesting job this will turn out to be_, Sam thought mischievously. _Time to test the subconscious devotion you have to each other._


	40. Let the Games Begin

**Let the Games Begin**

Dean was unnaturally quiet on the long ride to Cicero, Indiana. Sam attempted at conversation numerous times, but Dean never took the bait and didn't make any witty, sarcastic comments. For fun and trying to get Dean to smile at least, Violet reached her hand around the head rest and placed her palm on his forehead. He flinched away, in surprise or disgust, she couldn't initially tell, but it stung anyway.

"Sorry," she mumbled, feeling incredibly embarrassed and foolish all of the sudden. "I was just…wondering if maybe…you were ill, or something…"

"Ill? Why in the world would you think that? I'm fine," he retorted, stinging her further.

"You've just been quiet…that's all," Violet said, her voice dropping lower in volume as she spoke. Sam glanced back at her sympathetically, although she detected a bit of guilt in his eyes as well. She gave him a confused look in return, one eyebrow down and the other raised. Sam turned back around before she could question him more with her gaze.

"Well I'm fine. Sometimes I like the quiet. It's not a big deal," Dean said harshly, his lips barely moving and tone flat. Violet didn't like this Dean. Whether it was a phase or side or emotion; that didn't matter. Violet desperately wanted to know what was causing such behavior, but feared that Dean was clammed up so tight, she'd get snapped at every time she tried to get to the bottom of it.

"Sorry," she muttered. She flopped back against the seat, sighed, and crossed her arms. There weren't many trees where they were, so she stared at the clouds she could see instead. It was difficult due to the excess of blue sky.

Dean gripped the steering wheel harder in his right hand and gave an inaudible sigh. The war was raging madly in his head. His emotions were bizarre and ridiculous and unbelievable, and he couldn't make any sense of them. This is what angered him.

He hadn't meant to be so harsh toward Violet, but whatever was going on inside him needed a way out somehow. It was nothing she had done, although Dean had a hard time convincing himself it wasn't personal. He'd just barely breached the barrier around his thoughts about how he felt about Violet and then Lisa got thrown into the mess. Lisa. She was one fine woman, but then again so was Violet. If he was ever forced to choose between the two – he hoped to God that would never, ever happen – he was stumped as to who to choose. He had no idea. And would either of them really completely accept him if he did manage to choose?

_Maybe she's gone and forgotten about me…_ Dean thought almost hopefully. His emotions and feelings were so on the fence it was irritating. They'd all sway one way, and then the other, and then back again. _Just play it cool when we get there and try not to make Violet jealous, _he told himself firmly. _It should be fairly obvious how Lisa feels about me. Chicks are usually pretty easy to read as far as feelings go._

Sam gave a ponderous kind of sigh and turned to glance at Dean.

"This is going to be interesting," he murmured, not intending for it to be specific for anyone, although he stared right at Dean as he spoke. Dean thought it was uncanny the timing of his comment.

"Yeah," Dean grunted. "Interesting."


	41. Bend 'Til You Break

**Bend 'Til You Break**

They arrived in Cicero early the next morning. The sun was blazing and cheerful; quite the opposite of how the entire party inside the impala felt. Violet thought for sure Dean was going to have a permanent scowl for the rest of his life. Dean could pretty much say the same for her, although her expression couldn't honestly make him angry. It was that whole kitty cat thing that got him still, regardless of the fact that she was tougher now. Some things just didn't change.

As soon as the car pulled up outside the targeted house, Violet decided to speak. She hoped she didn't sound as nervous as she felt. Ironically enough, it wasn't from the potential of running into scary beasties.

"I say we split up and ask around the neighborhood if there were any more bizarre occurrences. We'll cover more ground that way."

Both Dean and Sam gave her interesting looks, but she dismissed them with a withering gaze. She didn't want them trying to 'figure her out.' It was wholly unnecessary, anyway.

"I guess you're right. Meet back here in an hour?" Sam suggested, piggy-backing on Violet's verbalized thought, although he really wanted to see Dean with both women together. _The time will come_, he thought to himself, feeling slightly evil.

"Yup. See you!" Violet hopped out of the car and was already two houses down by the time Dean stepped from the driver's side. He needn't ask what her issue was. He was pretty anxious himself, though they both shared the reason why.

"Later," was all Sam said.

Dean sent a half-hearted wave his way, sighed, and stared down the front door of Lisa's house. There were balloons tied to the mailbox, which had made him second guess that it was the correct address, but he tried to pay no mind.

Memories of the bendiest night of his life came back to him in a merciless flood as he stepped up onto the porch and rang the doorbell. The confidence and certainty he usually had when he turned on his charm hit full force and he left fear behind. Violet wasn't around. Sam wasn't around. He'd be all right.

_Play it cool, _he chanted to himself.

The door flew open to reveal Lisa, beautiful and tan as ever. A look of surprise and confusion passed over her lovely face before the recognition hit and a gleaming smile was turned Dean's way.

"Dean!" She laughed incredulously.

"Lisa," Dean replied in kind, a smile of his own coming forth. "How's it going?"

"Wow," Lisa said, giggling again involuntarily, the surprise still washing over her. "So, uh, how long's it been?"

"Eight, going on nine years now. Crazy, right?" His charm was unmistakable. Lisa couldn't stop smiling.

"Yeah," she responded quite blandly. "So…what are you doing here?" Her tone had a dash of expectance. It almost seemed like Dean had interrupted something and she was just remembering that fact.

"Oh! I was just passing through and I, uh, couldn't resist. I remembered that you loved surprises," Dean said, Violet falling completely to the back of his mind.

"Yeah," Lisa said, pausing to finish soaking in the realization. "Dean Winchester. Wow. Just, wow," she laughed airily as she chanced an up-and-down glance. Dean simply nodded and kept grinning. "Um, I'm sorry, you kind of came at a bad time. Kind of having a party."

"Party? I love parties," Dean commented, totally unaware. He smiled in obliviousness.

Lisa led him out to the back, two kids racing between them into the house. His brow furrowed as he put two and two together.

"So, uh, who's the party for?"

"Ben, my son," she answered as if it was obvious.

"Oh. You have a-?"

"Yeah. That's him," she said, pointing into the crowd with a motherly smile.

"Yes! AC/DC rules!" Ben cried, shaking a CD in excitement. Dean's eyebrows raised in suspicion and concern as he realized the possibility. The similarities were uncanny.

He turned back to Lisa trepidatiously. "How old?"

"Eight."

Dean took an involuntary deep breath and observed Ben once more.

"Oh, Dean, can you excuse me a minute?" Lisa asked as she walked away.

"Yeah, sure, don't mind me…"

He continued to stare at Ben. _Is it possible…? Could he be…? No, no way. Couldn't be. We just like the same things, that's all._

The cake was looking tempting so he decided to slide over and grab a slice. He chuckled to himself at the style of the cake and icing. It looked like a drag strip with two cars racing down the track.

Two women that sat just out of earshot admired him from the back from their lawn chairs.

"Did you hear Lisa call him Dean?" the brunette asked the red head in a teasing way.

"Yeah, why?"

"You don't know about Dean? _The _Dean, best night of my life, Dean?" She rolled it around like it was the juiciest piece of gossip in the last decade.

"No! Tell me."

"Oh, my God so we had this crazy, semi-illegal-" the brunette began, but was cut off by Dean having turned and spotted them.

"Hi," he greeted.

"Hi," the brunette replied, a dreamy look on her face.

"Hello," the ginger said, biting off a piece of celery in a sad attempt to seem alluring. Dean regarded them for a few seconds, deemed it worthless, and turned to walk away.

He found Ben by the bouncy castle and decided to strike up a conversation. Out of morbid curiosity or fear, he didn't know.

"'Sup," Ben said.

"'Sup with you," Dean replied.

Ben looked up at him and then away as if enough had been said. A mother and her young daughter walked by; both men twisted their necks to blatantly look at their retreating backsides.

"So, it's your birthday," Dean tried.

"Guilty," Ben replied simply.

"It's a cool party."

"Dude, it's so freakin' sweet. And this moon bounce…it's _epic!_"

Dean wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that. So he settled with, "Yeah, it's pretty awesome."

"Know who else thinks they're awesome? Chicks! It's like hot chick city out there!" Ben exclaimed, slapping Dean's jacket for emphasis. Dean just stared at him, brow crinkled and expression like he'd been punched in the gut and all the air was still trying to get back in his lungs.

Ben threw down his cake plate onto a nearby table and ran for the moon bounce, bound and determined.

"Look out, ladies, here comes trouble!" he yelled.

Dean watched him, recalculated in his head for the umpteenth time if it was possible for Ben to be his offspring, and ungracefully started to run away, nearly knocking over a trash can in the process.

Lisa poured some iced tea into a glass for a distraught looking woman in the kitchen.

"So, how are you holding up?" Lisa asked with genuine concern.

The woman began nodding slowly and replied, "Fine" with a very unconvincing expression gracing her features. As Lisa poured a glass for herself, she glanced over at the woman.

"Really?"

"You know…I just… Never mind."

"What?" Lisa pressed gently.

The woman then gazed out into the backyard at her daughter who was standing awkwardly in the middle of the commotion, looking around as if hungry for a snack.

"It's just…" she began again. "I'm worried about Katie. I think there might be something…wrong…with her."

"Of course there is," Lisa explained. "She just lost her dad, she's devastated."

"No, no no, that's not what I'm talking about," the woman replied strangely.

Lisa's face fell and her eyebrows came together in confusion.

"There is something _really_ wrong with her." Her attention shifted back to her daughter in the back yard. "I'm not sure that Katie is…Katie."

"What?" Lisa asked, like someone just told her gullible was written on the ceiling.

The woman's face twisted into a nonplussed scrunch as she looked at Lisa again.

"I'm not sure that's my daughter."

"I know you're grieving," Lisa reasoned. "But you can't talk like that. Katie needs you right now."

"No, you don't understand-"

"Seriously. We're gonna get you help. It'll be okay."

The woman swallowed some hurt words, put on a stony mask and went to retrieve her daughter. Lisa thought she was crazy, so why should she stay?

"Katie?" she called. "Come on, we're leaving."

Dean came up and replaced the woman's spot next to Lisa in the kitchen.

"Hey," he greeted awkwardly. "So I, uh, met Ben."

Lisa just gave him a wide-eyed, unbelievable look. She was still reeling from Katie's mother's reaction.

"He's a cool kid," Dean added.

"Yeah," Lisa said breathily.

"You know, I couldn't help but notice that, uh, he's turning eight." He gave her a look and popped his eyebrows as if to imply something. Lisa stared back at him uncomprehendingly.

"You and me…you know," Dean said as simply as he could.

Lisa finally reacted. She smiled and made a scoffing kind of laugh.

"You're not…trying to ask me if he's yours?"

"No! Nah, of course not."

Lisa laughed again and Dean chuckled, but his face didn't convey the same feeling. A rock had formed in the pit of his stomach and the feeling was undeniable. He just had to make sure, though.

"He's not, is he?"

"What?"

Dean waited for her to reply.

"No."

"Right." He was still unconvinced. He couldn't even take her word for it. "Yeah…" he muttered as he watched Ben from afar, taking in another deep breath.

Katie's mother stalked back through the kitchen with her daughter following close behind. Dean observed her strange behavior and decided to express his thoughts aloud.

"Something wrong with your friend?"

"She's been through a lot. Her ex just died in this horrible accident."

The loading bar reached full above Dean's head. "Yeah, didn't I just read about that, the uh, power saw?"

"Yeah. I guess there's been a lot of bad luck in the neighborhood lately."

And as easily as ever, he slipped into hunter mode.

"What kind of bad luck?"

Dean sat secured in the impala and dialed up Sam. He answered after one ring.

"Hello?"

"Dude, there is something weird going on here," Dean greeted.

"Really?"

"Yeah, you know that one freak accident we read about in the paper? Well it turns out there were four more that never even made the paper. All in this _Morning Hill_ gated community. People falling off their ladders and drowning in their Jacuzzis all over the neighborhood."

"That is weird," Sam commented as he digested the newfound information.

"Yeah, something's up. Something these nice big gates can't protect them from."

Violet sidled up to the impala and leaned down against the door where the window rolled up out of.

"Is that Sam?" she asked, her tone all business. She promptly opened the door with a creak, fell into the seat, and strapped herself in expectantly. "Ask where he is and we'll go pick him up. There's a house just a few blocks over where a man fell from his ladder while changing a light bulb a couple days ago. The scene was a little sketchy. Sam should go and investigate."

Dean stared at her.

"Dean?" Sam asked through the phone.

"Uh, yeah. Where are you? We've already been signed up to investigate something."

"I'm two blocks down and to the left."

"See you in a few," Dean said in farewell and snapped the phone shut before Sam could reply.

"Little miss investigator, eh?" Dean teased although he was in the opposite mood. Violet didn't even play along which made Dean feel worse.

"Something really bizarre is happening in this neighborhood. Is it just me or are some of the kids extra creepy?" She watched the houses go by through the windshield as she spoke.

"I get that too," Dean mumbled. "Kids are freaky."


	42. Dear Investigator

**Dear Investigator**

Sam emerged from a brick house with a tired looking woman into the back yard.

"So once again, I'm very sorry to disturb you, we just wanna really expedite that life insurance policy," Sam explained falsely.

"Of course," she said uninterestedly.

"Okay."

They stepped down off the back porch and stopped. The woman pointed up.

"This is where he fell."

Sam looked on, attempting to take in as much of the scene as possible.

"I see. Now how exactly did he-?"

"He was just inside changing a light bulb. Must've lost his balance."

"Were you here when this happened?"

"No, I was out. The only one here was our daughter, Dakota," she replied easily.

"Okay," Sam whispered, glancing back up at the ladder and the windows around it. Dakota was standing by a window, glaring out at them. Oddly enough, the corner of the frame on the outside of the house had red streaks of something a lot like blood smeared on it. As his gaze carried down further, he spied more of it on the railing as well. Sam looked back up at Dakota and regarded her strangely.

"Okay, well I think that's all I need. I'll get out of your way now."

"Thank you," the mother murmured in appreciation. She turned to lead him back up the steps and Sam saw a half dollar sized mark on the back of her neck. His expression immediately changed to worry as he examined it. There was what seemed like teeth marks in a ring, somewhat like a carnivorous leech.

_Odd. Time to do some researching, _Sam thought.

Dean and Violet rode in silence until Dean found a relatively non-seedy motel to stop at for the night. They got out without a word, hefted their respective bags over their shoulders and Dean checked them in. Violet immediately kicked off her boots upon entering their designated room and fell onto the closest bed to the door.

"What do you suppose is going on here? Have any thoughts?" she murmured, eyes closed peacefully. Dean was struck with the abrupt feeling of guilt and desire to lie down next to her all at the same time. It was an off feeling. He realized she hadn't asked anything of Lisa and figured that was just her way of saying – or not saying – that she just didn't want to talk about it. She'd left him to his wanderings and although she wasn't the happiest camper, she was dealing with it.

"I'm not sure yet. All I know is that the kids seem strange. I can't pull any more details from the limited data yet. When Sam gets back, help him research," Dean said, opening the door to step out of the room, keys in hand. Violet sat up quickly on the bed and stared at him like if he walked out the door, she'd burst into flames. The expression passed rapidly, but it was too late; Dean had seen it.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Food. I don't know about you, but I'm hungry." He had nearly closed the door when Violet whipped it back open to stand in the doorway, staring up at him.

"Can't I come with you?"

He was staggering in frustration from her shifts in moods and expressions, but he loved the look in her eyes right then. It was like a film had been taken off; just a glimpse of how she really felt, how she really looked at him.

"No," Dean said slowly, fighting the urge to give in and let her go. He wasn't trying to get rid of her. He did need some alone time to think and process what the day had served him, but that wasn't the only good reason he was leaving her behind this time. "Sam should be back soon and someone needs to be here to let him in," he explained truthfully.

Her face fell when she realized she couldn't argue his point.

"Okay," she murmured, giving him one last look before closing the door.

Dean sighed and trudged over to the impala.

"Women."

Sam arrived at the motel fifteen minutes later, inquiries in mind and laptop in hand.

Dean was back with a couple greasy paper bags before Sam and Violet had finished discussing their hypotheses. Sam had just barely opened his computer to begin the thorough research when they heard a knock. Violet let Dean in, complimented him on how quick he was, and snatched a bag of food from his large hands.

"So, what do you got?" Dean questioned, already having unwrapped his burger and curled his fingers around it.

"What do you know about changelings?" Sam asked back, his gaze trained on the screen even though Violet had set down his burger and fries beside the computer.

"Evil monster babies?" Dean replied.

"No, not necessarily babies," Violet piped in around a mouthful of meat.

"The kids," Dean said in realization. "Creepy, stare at you like you're lunch, kids."

"Yup," Sam confirmed. "There's one in every victim's house."

Sam held up a bird's eye view print out of the neighborhood with red x's over the houses of the victims. Dean glanced at him warily before taking the map in two greasy fingers. Violet stuffed the rest of her burger into her mouth and joined them at the table, scrutinizing the map. Dean finished eating quickly as well. Sam had just begun unwrapping the burger in front of him when they decided what their next move was.

"Eat fast," Dean said in his commander voice. "We've got some bitches to burn."

An hour or so later found them back in the motel room, but this time instead of food, they had torches and lighter fluid.

"So changelings can perfectly mimic children. According to lore, they climb through the window and snatch the kid. I know there were marks on the windowsill of one of the kid's houses. Looked to me like blood."

"That's what I thought, too," Violet murmured. "At the place with the ladder. He didn't fall that way, so why would there be blood on such a weird spot?"

"So a changeling grabs a kid, assumes its form, and joins the happy fam just for kicks?" Dean tried, riddling it out.

"Not quite. Changelings feed on the mom. Synovial fluid. The moms have these odd bruises on the back of their necks. The changelings can drain them for a few weeks before the mom finally croaks," Sam explained.

"Yeah, then there's the dad and the babysitter…"

"Yeah, seems like anyone who gets between the changeling and its food source ends up dead," Sam agreed.

"And fire is the only way to waste them?" Dean asked almost hopefully.

"Yup."

"Great. We'll just bust in, drag the kids out, torch them on the front lawn – that'll play great with the neighbors," Dean remarked, making known with his tone that it was a quip. "What about the real ones, what happens to them?"

"According to lore," Sam began again. "They stash 'em underground somewhere. I don't know why, but if it's true, the real kids might be out there somewhere."

"Then we better start looking. So…any kid in the neighborhood is vulnerable," Dean said, immediately thinking of Ben.

"Yeah."

"We gotta make a stop. I wanna check on someone."

"Well, Dean, if the real kids are still alive, we don't have time to-"

"We have to," Dean said firmly, effectively ending the conversation.

"Changelings," Violet murmured as if testing the word on her tongue. "Never gone face to face with one of those before. This should be interesting."

Dean tossed a bag at her.

"Let's go."


	43. Charcoaled Changelings

**Charcoaled Changelings**

Dean knocked hurriedly on Lisa's front door, more concerned than nervous this time. She opened it with a whoosh much like earlier that day, although her expression didn't light up; it darkened.

"Dean?" she asked accusingly. "What are you-?"

"Hey, I was thinking of Ben's birthday – I didn't even bring him a present."

"That's okay," Lisa said quickly, regarding him like a mongoose to a rattle snake.

"No, no! No, I feel terrible. So, uh, here. Take a long weekend, just the two of you; it's on me," Dean said enthusiastically, handing her a blue credit card.

"What?" she asked tiredly.

"Yeah, in fact I hear Six Flags is great this time of year. Go now! Avoid the traffic."

Lisa read the name on the card and turned hostile eyes on him. "Siegfried Houdini. Who's card is this?"

"Mine," Dean replied, realizing he was losing his grip on the situation – if he even had any to begin with. "Never mind, it'll work. I promise."

"You should leave." Lisa stuck the card out for him to take. He was going to have to use an alternative angle.

"Lisa-"

"Mommy, what's wrong?" Ben asked in monotone, coming around the corner to see who was at the door.

"Nothing, Ben. It's cool," Dean answered for her. Ben gave him a strange look like he'd never seen him before.

"Make him go away, Mommy."

Dean stared at him as the pit in his stomach grew larger.

"You heard him," Lisa said pointedly. "Get out."

"Lisa, I don't think this is a good idea-"

"Get out!" The door slammed in his face. His mind raced.

Just to confirm his worst fears, he crept around the house to check out Ben's bedroom window. There were red streaks leading up to it like the other house.

He turned and ran to the impala, brow permanently furrowed and eyes wide with concern and determination.

"They took Ben. He's changed," Dean yelled as he approached the Impala with thumping footfalls.

"What?" Sam asked.

"You're sure?" Violet put in.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I checked his windowsill."

"Blood?" Sam inquired.

"No, I don't think it's blood. And I think I know where the kids are."

The Impala started up and they were very quickly and probably illegally halfway across the neighborhood in a matter of minutes. Dean pulled up in front of a skeleton of a house with construction scraps tossed everywhere around it.

The three of them jumped from the car and Dean approached a pile of dirt off to the side. He cupped a handful in his palm and Sam shined a flashlight on it.

"Red dirt," Violet murmured, glancing between the brothers. "So it wasn't blood."

Dean let the dirt fall between his fingers.

"You two take the front. I'll go around."

Violet nodded as Dean tossed a back pack at Sam who caught it easily.

Violet and Sam found themselves on the ground floor wandering through with flashlights and on high alert.

"Houses sure are creepy when they're dark and not fully built," Violet whispered, pulling back a curtain of plastic.

Dean searched around by his lonesome, looking for anything peculiar and out of place. There was a scraping noise that caught his and Sam's attention. Dean stopped and listened for it again just to make sure he wasn't imagining things. It sounded a couple more times, and each time it happened, the closer Dean was able to get to the source.

When he saw where the sounds were coming from he was relieved and yet felt horrible simultaneously. The wall was lined with cages and the cages were full of children. Stolen, snatched up innocent children. Ben reached his hand up and grasped the bars of the cage with his little fingers. Dean reflexively gripped the cage next to Ben's hand.

"Ben! Ben, I'm going to get you out of here, okay?"

Sam and Violet were less lucky, however, and ran into someone.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked demandingly. Her flaming hair was easy to see even in the dark of the night. Sam turned to face her, but stopped halfway around, having caught her reflection in a window that had yet to be installed. It showed her true form; she had sunken, eyeless sockets and a round mouth with several teeth arranged in a circle. Her skin looked thin and brown. "This is private property. I'm calling the police."

Meanwhile, Dean was frantically trying to figure out how to unlock all the cages and free the kids. As he circled around them, he noticed the flame-haired woman he saw at Ben's birthday party.

"You heard me, get out!" she screamed at Sam, taking slow steps toward him. Violet had yet to be compromised by the gaze of the woman and thankfully she had the backpack. Quickly and quietly she rummaged around in it until her hands found a torch.

"Just let me get my bag, I'm going. I don't mean to cause any trouble," Sam lied. Violet pitched the torch at him and no sooner than it was in his hand, it was lit and pointed at the red head. When he thought she'd be well-done, he turned it off only to find nothing there. She'd disappeared. Both Violet and Sam glanced around warily, the war not over.

Dean found a pipe and managed to beat the lock off Ben's cage. He wrapped his arms around him and hoisted him out before setting him down, running a hand through his hair to make sure he was really okay, and prepared to spring other kids free.

"All right, come on," Dean urged. He continued to use the pipe to break open the locks on every other cage.

Ben went over to one of the kids and reassured him.

"It's okay. We're gonna get outta here, all right?"

Once everyone was free, Dean had them gather beside the basement window as he got ready to smash it open so they could make their escape.

"All right, everybody back, everybody back!" he warned. "Cover your eyes!"

All the children cowered, putting their hands over their faces and turning away from the window. Dean flung the pipe at the glass and it shattered. Moving things out of the way frenziedly, Dean was figuring out what to do next.

"Here, use this," Ben offered, shrugging off his jacket. Dean laid it over the broken maw of the window so no hands and legs would get sliced.

"All right. All right, Ben, come on!" Dean ordered.

"Him first," Ben said, pushing another more distressed looking little boy forward.

"Dean!" Sam shouted from somewhere else in the house. A couple girls turned at the anxiety in his voice. He sprinted into the basement with Violet following closely behind. "Dean! There was a mother."

"A mother changeling?" Dean asked, hefting kids up through the window.

"Yeah, we gotta get these kids out quick!"

Sam searched around to help.

"Right there, right there! There's one more, you've got to break the lock!" Dean yelled, pointing toward the last full cage. Sam found another pipe and destroyed the lock. "I guess that's why when they switch the changelings they keep the kids alive so the mom can snack on them."

Sam helped the red head woman out of the cage. She didn't look like she was doing so hot.

Another presence joined them in the room then. A little girl at the back of the pack, Katie, turned at the feeling of being watch, saw the red-head changeling mother, and proceeded to scream.

The changeling mother decided it was time to have a throw down with the Winchester brothers, plus one. She caught Dean off guard and threw him like he weighed nothing through the support beams, snapping many of them in two. Sam tried to come from behind and surprise her, but he didn't manage to light the torch before she rounded on him. She snapped up a kick and the lighter went flying.

Her punches came one after another, relentless, and Sam couldn't find an opening. The mother kneed him in the gut and tossed him aside as if done for the moment. Then, by process of elimination, she faced Violet, who was scrambling around for the lighter. Dean approached the mother from behind, intent to get a few attacks in, but she sensed him and swung her arm around, slamming it into his jaw. A punch, a knee, and an elbow later, Dean was nearly shoved to the ground.

"Ben, get them out of here!" he bellowed, nonchalantly choosing a brick from the small pile he'd been pushed up next to. Quickly he spun and crammed the brick into the woman's skull. She reeled and fell against the wall, but no sooner than she was on the ground Dean was gripping her jacket to twist her around. He thought perhaps she didn't have much fight left in her, but he got an answer when a swift fist jammed into his stomach.

Ben found a five gallon bucket and helped the rest of the kids up and out through the window in Dean's place.

Finally Dean was able to kick the woman square in the chest, sending her crashing to the floor. Violet found the lighter, tossed it to Sam, and in a bright, burning light, the mother was gone along with her screams.

The Impala pulled up into the driveway for the third time in the last couple days, but this time Dean didn't have to knock to get Lisa to come outside. Dean let Ben out of the car just as Lisa was coming to meet them in the driveway.

"Ben? Ben! Baby, are you okay?" she asked worriedly, but also with relief. She gathered him up in her arms and they embraced tightly.

"I'm okay, Mom."

"Oh, my God," she murmured harshly from the rawness of it all. Dean slowly approached the two of them with care in his steps. Violet and Sam stayed in the car just because of the mutual understanding that it was wholly Dean's conversation to have. That was completely fine with Violet; it was just that she'd rather not be there.

"What the hell just happened?" Lisa asked Dean shakily.

"I'll explain everything if you want me to, but trust me, you probably don't," he said flatly, handing her Ben's jacket. "The important thing is Ben's safe."

"Yeah. Thank you," she murmured genuinely. Suddenly, and involuntarily it seemed, she crashed into Dean with a hug and breathed out, a tremble in her voice. "Thank you," she repeated.

Dean, an uncertain expression on his face, turned to glance back at Sam, who gave him a half-smile.

"We'll give you guys some time," he said, basically giving Dean permission to disclose to Lisa any information he desired. Violet burned up from the raw jealousy she felt. He was just going to explain to her what happened. That was it and she knew that. They weren't going to have a sobbing heart to heart and he wasn't going to fall for her and leave Sam and Violet for the average joe life. Besides, he couldn't anyway. Once a hunter, always a hunter. You may stop going after jobs, but the jobs don't stop coming after you.

Dean, Lisa, and Ben turned to go inside and Violet could only cross her arms and pretend she couldn't care less.


	44. Monkey Wrench

**Monkey Wrench**

Ben sat at the dining room table with headphones on, pressing play and seeming totally oblivious to the adults standing just a few feet away.

"Changelings?" Lisa asked Dean.

"You know how I never mentioned my job? This is my job," he told her simply.

"I so didn't want to know that."

Dean gave an expression then that had _I guess that's fair_ written all over it. A head bobbing, lip pursing, eyebrow popping sort of quick expression.

Ben munched on his sandwich and bounced his head in time to the music.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Lisa inquired.

"Yeah, I think he'll be fine," Dean said, pausing. "Okay, seriously, I mean you are one-hundred-percent sure he's not mine? Right?"

At this, Lisa laughed and smiled up at Dean.

"You're off the hook. I did a blood test when he was a baby."

"Oh," was all Dean could reply. Even though he worried about it and was honestly afraid at the beginning, he almost felt disappointed that he wasn't Ben's paternal father.

"It was this guy, some bar back in a biker joint," she said offhandedly. Dean shot her a strange look. "What?" she asked, laughing again. "I had a type. Leather jacket, couple of scars, no mailing address – I was there. Guess I was a little wild back then. Before I became a mom. So, yeah. You can relax."

Dean nodded his head and gave a half-hearted smile.

"Good," he said, although he didn't completely mean it.

Lisa watched him watch Ben and almost seemed confused.

"I swear you look disappointed."

"Yeah, I don't know. It's weird, you know, your life, I mean this house, and the kid…it's not my life. Never will be. Anyway, a guy in my situation…you start to think, you know, I'm gonna be gone one day and what am I leaving behind besides a car?"

"Well Ben may not be your kid, but he wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you. That's a lot if you ask me."

Dean nodded, finally accepting it, and turned to head toward the door. He spun just before he reached it to say some final words.

"You know just for the record, you've got a great kid. I would be proud to be his dad."

She smiled and almost as if she was magnetized to him, ran up and kissed him. When she pulled back, his expression was so painfully uncertain and a sliver of unhappiness had crept in. She didn't seem to notice.

"Look, if um, you wanna stick around for a while…you're welcome to stay," she proposed hopefully.

"I can't. I've got a lot of work to do and it's not my life." He twisted quickly around and opened the door, glancing back as he stepped through. She flashed him a smile and he gave one in return, but internally he was freaking out. Everything that had happened just supported his perception of women and the fact that he felt he could never settle down with one. Too unpredictable, extremely emotional, cagey sometimes and then overall just plain hard to understand. Violet was already a trip and when he thought he'd finally come even remotely close to a conclusion on her, Lisa got thrown into the madness.

_Will I ever figure any of this out?_ Dean thought despairingly as he made his way back to the Impala. The look on Violet's face, the blatant disregard of anything and anyone just made his heart sink further. _And now I've unintentionally pushed Violet away as well. Great._ _I'm really beginning to think this whole "love" thing is not worth it._


	45. Stolen

**Stolen**

That night they decided to stay in the area and just bunk up at the same motel they used for the trip, mainly just because they didn't have any pressing need to be anywhere else. And also, everyone was just too tired to even think about driving back to Bobby's.

It was nearing three A.M. and Violet still sat awake at the table, her chin on her fist and thoughts blazing through her mind at impossible speeds for the time of night. Violet had really tried hard to squash any bad thoughts about Lisa and Dean out of her head and so far, she'd succeeded. Dean was a big boy and could make his own decisions. Violet had experienced hurt in her life before and practically counted on it happening again.

Her only road block was her hope. Even after telling herself her honest chances with Dean were really little to none and that he'd never settle down with just himself let alone anyone else, that little inkling of hope glimmered from the darkest corner in the back of her mind. _Maybe, just maybe he'll come to his senses and realize just what's right in front of him, _it would sing. _What senses?_ she'd reply hopelessly.

She sighed and slumped further down into her chair.

Besides, she only had an allotted amount of time left on earth anyway. Why fantasize about such things when even if she got to experience them, she wouldn't get to savor them properly? She may just have to kill herself and save everyone the trouble – and every day, she was seriously beginning to consider that. These are her daily qualms.

Dean rolled over ungracefully under the sheets and muttered something indignant. Violet's curiosity and bravery got the best of her and she decided to sit on the side of his bed to get a closer listen.

"Love…ridiculous…" he muttered, his lips sputtering out in the exhale. Violet couldn't help but smile at the pureness of the scene. "Choice…? None…stupid…Violet…" he continued in an unconnected string of thoughts. Violet's ears perked up at the mention of her name, although she wasn't too sure about it coming directly after "stupid." Whatever. He'd said her name in his sleep. Hopefully, maybe, that meant something? He was dreaming of her perhaps?

"Oh, Dean," she sung softly to him, inebriated by just his subconscious mutterings. Daringly and without complete awareness, she wove her fingers between his and admired their hands together, lying on the pillow next to Dean's peaceful face. His warm breath glanced off her knuckles and made her want to scoot closer to him, to feel more of him.

A sudden, unwarranted thought shot through her mind and back again.

_Maybe I could steal just one…he is sleeping, after all…he won't remember it…_

"Curiosity, I'll murder you one of these days…" she whispered as she leaned closer to Dean's face.

It was slightly awkward with the angle of his face, but she managed it all the same. She tilted her head delicately and just enough to fully appreciate Dean's lips. A shiver went through her as she detached herself from him completely, and she wasn't sure if her bare feet on the cold floor had rendered that or the deed she had done. She didn't care either way, but suddenly felt strange and like she had actually stolen something from Dean.

"Sorry," she murmured then, abruptly not so certain he wouldn't shoot straight up in bed and accuse her of taking advantage of him. Scrambling back over to her bed, she immediately crammed herself under the tight covers and rolled so that her back was facing him. She heard him lick his lips in the darkness and shift slightly before making a pleasant humming sort of noise.

Oh, what was she going to do with herself?


	46. What Do the Voices Say?

**What Do the Voices Say?**

Sam awoke before his roommates and decided to take advantage of the empty shower and peaceful quiet of the early morning. He passed by Violet's bed to get to his things and couldn't help stopping to take in the sight of her. The sheets were wrapped about her small body in a pathetic attempt to cover even half of her; hair a messy halo and limbs positioned every which way.

"Rough night?" he asked her gently as he resumed his initial task.

Turning on the violent spray, he gave himself to it and blocked out everything – and as much of his thoughts as possible.

"Mm," Violet replied softly, rolling and making her covers predicament worse.

Dean graced the world with his conscious presence only fifteen minutes later, well after Sam was done in the shower and had began enjoying his breakfast, courtesy of the hotel.

"Anything good?" Dean asked groggily, stumbling over to the duffel bag to get ready for a much needed shower.

"Bland coffee and stale donuts, but hey, what can you really expect? The muffins may be good. I decided not to give those a try, though," Sam replied, sipping on said coffee and reading through one of his many books usually used for research. Dean gave him a grunt before realizing Violet spread out on her bed.

Such trickery should never be committed while one is asleep, but he figured what the hell. This is what you have roommates and friends for, right?

So, he tickled her bare feet with a smile waiting on his face.

She yelped and yanked her feet up, knees to her chest, and glared down at him in disbelief.

"I never!" she gasped in mock ferocity. Dean chuckled at her effort to play along. "Don't you know better than to take advantage of someone while they're helpless and sleeping?" she teased, but immediately averted her gaze and blushed.

"Perhaps not, but one should never give advice they can't take, hm?" Dean replied, speaking mainly of their shared night in his bed. He was still totally oblivious to what Violet had done that previous night. Unfortunately, that comment made Violet seem much more reserved than playful, which definitely had not been Dean's aim.

Violet, appearing done with their conversation, looped up her hair into a sloppy bun and announced that she was going to the breakfast room to acquire some tea, and perhaps anything else that looked halfway all right. Dean warned her if she wasn't back in five minutes that he would personally jump out of his shower and come looking for her in just a towel, if need be. The image didn't help her much in her attempts to quash any feelings she had for him, but she brushed it off and told him he shan't worry.

She sighed as she shut the door behind her.

Violet returned only minutes later, much to Dean's joy, although he was already in the shower and how could he keep track of time anyway?

She'd only gulped down some of her tea when Dean finished up in the bathroom.

"My, you boys are fast," she commented, feeling to need to round up her own stuff to take her turn in the bathroom. "Don't go saving the world without me!" she yelled jokingly through the door.

Without meaning to, she ran through last night in her mind and a dark blush crept around her neck and over her cheeks as she stripped herself of her bedclothes. She shook her head of those thoughts and stepped under the hot stream of water.

_Do you feel it? _a voice, not her own, whispered through the caverns of her thoughts. She froze and her body went numb, even under the steamy shower. _Do you feel it consuming you? The evil inside will soon rule and you will have no choice but to surrender to it. Those boys you call friends will be dead at your feet, by your hands, and you will come running to me. Oh, my queen, you will come running._

"Stop it," she murmured, her voice trembling just as her body began doing the same. Her hands clamped around her ears and she fell back against the tile.

_Eyes as dark as night, soul depleted of all goodness, and heart belonging to me. This is your future as queen._

"Stop it!" Violet screamed in attempt to drown out the whispered lies. She hoped they were lies. She prayed. "_Leave me alone!"_

_Come look at yourself! _The voice snapped at her and without her permission, she began to move out of the shower and toward the mirror. Water spilled from her fingertips and dripped down her back onto the floor, creating a puddle in her wake. Her arm reached out to snatch a towel off the rack and cover herself. Her feet stopped when her face came into view in the uncannily perfect reflection. _You are weak in this form! Trapped! Just look at your feebleness! Some much power awaits you. _

Her features contorted until they fit the voice's earlier description with some demonic twists; jet black eyes, a wicked smile, and a gaunt but eerily beautiful face. The reflection laughed and she could hear it clearly in her head - evil and yet somehow melodic. Enticing.

"_No!" _Violet shrieked, resisting the pull, the desire to become what she had seen. She launched her hand out to the glass and it shattered around her fist. Pieces stabbed her knuckles and blood gushed, but she paid no mind. The madness in her head was far worse than the pain screaming from her hand.

_Resistance is futile, my queen!_

She collapsed to her knees into the fetal position and shoved herself into the farmost corner of the cramped room between the toilet and off-white wall. Her hands were still shoved to her ears, as if it would help.

_You will be mine, Violet. The demon inside will take over soon and you will have no say in the matter. The demon is already yearning for my presence. _

"It's not true," Violet sobbed. "It won't be. It can't."

_Oh, it is_, the voice purred.

A frantic knock sounded on the bathroom door, making Violet jump out of her skin. A heaviness she hadn't noticed seemed to leave her head and the voice was gone, it's evil presence along with it. The relief was overwhelming.

"Violet? What's going on in there? Are you all right?"

She moaned involuntarily, the pain unmuting and burning her knuckles mercilessly, all of it suddenly at the front of her mind. Blood ran down into her palm and stained the towel wrapped around her body. She cradled her injured hand in her other one and cried, her throat constricted by terror and hurt.

"Violet?" Dean called, more urgency in his tone. "I'm coming in," he warned, and opened the door. His quick eyes searched the small, poorly lit bathroom and observed his surroundings. He locked onto Violet, pitifully scrunched up beside the toilet with a bleeding hand and a horror struck look on her face. Immediately he ran to her and crouched in front of her, strongly holding her shaken eyes.

Based on the shattered expression upon her face, he decided to wait to question her. Before anything else happened, he needed to get her hand bandaged up.

"Sam, I need the first aid kit, stat," he called into the other room without looking away from Violet. In record time, Sam made it into the bathroom and, having sensed the same thing his brother had, refrained from asking any questions.

"You cut yourself pretty deep," Dean murmured, conscientiously removing each shard of mirror from her knuckles and dropping them on a piece of folded toilet paper perched on the toilet lid. Sam prepared the gauze and healing agent in silence beside them. "We need to wash your hand now," Dean said. "Can you stand?"

Violet nodded slowly, staying mute.

Dean gently pulled her to her feet and led her to the sink. He tossed a few chunks of glass into the trashcan, clearing out the sink to clean Violet's hand of the blood. He turned on the faucet and made sure it wasn't freezing cold before dunking her hand under the stream. She winced at the contact.

Sam came over and dabbed her wounds dry before expertly wrapping her hand up in gauze.

"There," he proclaimed, smiling warmly at her. "It'll be good as new in no time."

The boys left her to get dressed and waited patiently in the room, trying to think of how best to approach questioning her.

A couple minutes passed and she exited the bathroom shyly, not glancing up save for watching where she was walking. Dean took initiative and lightly grabbed her upper arm to direct her to sit on the bed. Sam pulled up a chair and Dean positioned himself next to Violet.

"Are you ready to talk about what happened in the bathroom?" Sam prodded carefully, feeling like a psychiatrist preparing to diagnose someone with manic depression.

Violet hesitated, and then nodded subtly, bringing her gaze up to meet the brothers' in turn.

They waited with heightened curiosity.

"I-I was going to take a shower," she began simply, "and there was this…voice…in my head. It started talking to me, saying all these things about my inner evil taking over and becoming Lucifer's queen. I couldn't stop it…it just kept talking. I told it to go away, but it wouldn't. Not until you knocked. It left then. It's not here anymore."

Dean and Sam exchanged a diluted look of fear.

"Why did you break the mirror?" Dean questioned softly.

At this, Violet's head dropped lower.

"The voice, it…brought me over to the mirror and showed me what I was going to become. It told me I couldn't resist it, that there was nothing I could do to prevent it. So I smashed the mirror to get rid of the image. This all sounds batshit crazy, doesn't it? I'm losing my mind," she finished, placing her head in her shaking hands. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out as an airy sigh.

"Nah, we've dealt with crazier," Dean said lightly, hoping to make Violet feel better. "Besides, we won't let them take you. No way. You're our Violet and ours only. As long as I'm alive, I'll never let them get to you."

"Make that two of us," Sam added, grinning reassuringly.

Violet gave them a sad smile in response and placed a hand on both men's shoulders.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, and began to cry again. Dean could only wrap his arms tight around her.


	47. Silence is Golden, Fear is Black

**Silence is Golden – Fear is Black**

At some point amidst the tears and sobs, Dean and Sam found themselves in need of loading up the Impala for the trek home, since it was in fact a whopping almost-thirteen hours of driving time. Grudgingly, Dean had left Violet alone on the bed in order to assist Sam in rounding all their belongings up, what with their ETA shifting later and later. Violet had such a defeated look on her face Dean wasn't sure how she managed to stay upright.

When everything was finally ready, they escorted Violet out to the car where she promptly flopped onto the backseat without so much as a sigh. Dean wasn't the only one who could clam up this tight.

Dean and Sam gave one another a look of uncertainty as Dean started up the car. They were both wondering how long this would last, hoping she'd be shaken of her funk by the time they reached Bobby's.

For the first car trip ever, Violet was silent the entire way.

Seven hundred and sixty-one miles later, the Impala rumbled languidly into the driveway at Bobby's place and came to a stop. As usual, the boys hefted all the belongings inside and Violet shuffled into the house after them, arms wrapped around herself as if to stave off cold. Dean couldn't help shooting her surreptitious concerned glances.

In a matter of minutes, sleeping bags were rolled out, pillows were fluffed, and good night's were exchanged, as it was already after midnight. The boys, being the gentlemen they were, allowed Violet the couch for the night again, although this time the gratitude she had for it was unbelievable.

Throughout the duration of the night, after sleep took over, Violet wouldn't be the only one graced with nightmares.


	48. Don't Shoot the Messenger

**Don't Shoot the Messenger**

"Sam?" a voice called, echoing around him. He couldn't place the voice and didn't know where it was coming from, although it was decidedly British. "Wake up, you moron. I don't have a lot of time here. I don't get paid by the hour, you know."

Sam's eyes flew open with a start and he took in his surroundings rapidly. His brow furrowed. _This isn't Bobby's place._

"No, it's not, now will you get your lanky ass over here? I've got some important news."

Sam walked in the direction of the voice, having already been standing, and once the smoke cleared, other things in his mind did as well.

He stood face to face with a demon.

"Get the hell out of my head," Sam growled.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Sam, I'm only here as a messenger."

"How did you get in here?" Sam pressed.

"God, always with the questions. Can't you boys ever just shut up, sit down, and _listen?_" the demon scoffed. "Anyway, I'm here because I've got special clearance from a powerful source, now will you keep your trap_ shut_? I haven't got much time."

"Time for what?"

The demon made an exasperated noise and threw his hands up. He then made a gesture with his fingers that made it seem like he was giving Sam the duckbill. Sam suddenly realized he couldn't open his mouth.

"That'll teach you," the demon muttered before carrying on merrily. "The name's Crowley. I have been sent here into your noggin to deliver a message from our king, the devil. Now, I'm not entirely sure why he sent me, but I'm not planning on staying around long. Taking an extended vacation to all points nowhere and getting out before the world ends, if you know what I mean. I'm not into the whole "worshipping" thing.

"So, I'm supposed to tell you that Luci wants to meet up with you and your little half-demon girlfriend in Carthage, Missouri this Thursday. Says he wants to "talk." For the love of God, don't ask me about what. I don't know. You can find out if you go to Carthage. He also says it's a private meeting, no brothers or friends allowed. Just you and the demon will attend."

Crowley gave Sam a withering look.

"Which, naturally, means you'll be bringing the entire brigade. I just hope you realize what that might mean for you," Crowley warned vaguely, making to turn away before seeming to remember something. "Oh, and you may need a little extra help. This should do the trick," he murmured, placing a heavy gun in Sam's hands. He felt the power of it flow through his fingers as he grasped onto it. "This has been laying dormant for too long in the truck of the blasted car. I suggest you open it up and empty it into the devil's face if you get close enough, understand?" Crowley's voice has dimmed to a whisper.

Sam studied the gun in its familiarity, and then the demon eyeing him expectantly. He stood out blatantly against the white backdrop of dreamscape, his black suit hurting Sam's eyes due to the glaring contrast.

"Why would the devil send you as messenger if he knew you would betray him?"

Crowley shrugged.

"Perhaps he enjoys the challenge. That's all I've got for you. Ta."

And he was gone.

Sam awoke abruptly in Bobby's living room, sucking in a deep breath and the smell of the musty carpet along with it. He was convincing himself that it had to be a dream when he felt the cool metal in his fingers. The Colt. He had been given it in the dream and yet he held it there in his hands.

_Are you ready, Sam?_

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. _Great, now I've got voices too._

_Are you ready?_

_For what? To have a showdown with the devil? Why does he want me _and_ Violet, anyway? If I were him I'd rather not invite an escort along, _Sam replied, his own response a question. _She's the only one he really needs._

_Are you ready to be a vessel?_

This startled Sam. Castiel's body was a vessel. Castiel had taken over Jimmy Novak's body since his true form was too great for humans to bear witness to.

_To be a vessel for whom? _Sam asked carefully.

_Sam, Sam, Sam… You're the devil's meat suit._


	49. PreGame Warm Ups

**Pre-Game Warm Ups**

If there was one thing Sam learned throughout his lifetime of being a Winchester, it was to be honest, even if you seemed crazy or weren't sure you should disclose certain things. He'd screwed up too many times keeping things from his brother _not_ to learn that sooner. It was best for everyone to know about his dream, even if it did concern a very fragile piece of new information.

_You're the devil's meat suit._

So, naturally, after Bobby made an appearance and they were all trying to enjoy breakfast, Sam told them everything. He couldn't even deny the surprise on Violet's face when he revealed what he'd been told about being a vessel for the devil himself.

"So, let me get this straight…some demon told you, _in a dream_, that the devil wants to exchange a couple words and then wear you to the prom with Violet? It all sounds a little weird to me, even weirder than usual," Dean said gruffly, abandoning his morning coffee already. Violet still hadn't uttered a word since yesterday. "Can't the devil just zap down into some human and call it good? Why does it have to be my brother?" Dean just short of complained.

"Because he was born specifically for this purpose," Violet whispered. All heads turned to study her in amazement.

"What was that?" Bobby asked, leaning his elbows forward on the table. Violet's face flushed and she kept her eyes low as she curled her fingers about the steaming mug in front of her. She never really liked being the center of attention, unless it had anything to do with Dean.

"I had a dream last night, too, and there was a demon that told me some…interesting things as well. Sam…I'm sorry, but if the demon was right, you've been meant for this your whole life. Not just any human can be a vessel for the devil and properly sustain him," Violet finished solemnly. Dean went to open his mouth, but Violet spoke before he could. "I know what you're thinking…why didn't Sam know about all this before? How come he didn't get "primed" for being the devil's ride like I'm getting primed for "queendom"? Well…if you had known any sooner, Sam, would you have perhaps entertained the idea of an "untimely death" just so the devil would have more trouble roaming the earth?"

Sam was quiet for a few moments, pondering and chewing on this question. He felt everyone's eyes on him and it was slightly unnerving.

"I probably would, yeah. If it would keep the devil at bay and make his job a lot harder, then yes. I would," he answered certainly. Since it was hypothetical at this point, he had no reason not to be completely honest or blunt.

"Right. So ideally no one wanted you to know until it was the right moment, or, in this case, when you had no choice but to accept. If you had your whole life, you'd have a lot of time to think about it. Like in my situation, I've had a lot of time to think about things and it's probably been worse for the demons, but I had to know in order to start getting ready, I guess. To understand better what was going on."

All mouths were silent and eyes downcast, however, every mind was working, turning their gears. Was there a way out of this situation without jeopardizing anyone's life? No. Was there any way to reason with the devil? Absolutely not. If they just killed Sam and Violet, would things end? Most likely not. Was the only chance at winning this entire game killing the devil? Yeah, pretty much.

Everyone seemed to reach this conclusion at once. Bobby spoke first.

"I guess we're gonna need the whole brigade," he grunted while reaching for the phone and looking at everyone with squinty eyes.

"You called?" a new voice piped in.

Heads turned to stare at a fixed point. That fixed point was Castiel.

Dean nodded, kicking in to strategy mode.

"We're going to need all the help we can get."


	50. Difficult Notions

*Author's Notes: If these next few chapters sound oddly familiar, you're not crazy. I'm pulling things from a certain episode for realistic effect (and it just fits well in my story line.) Eric Kripke is the owner of the dialogue and the idea of Supernatural, just so we're clear. I know I don't own SPN. I wish I did. The only thing that remotely belongs to me is this fanfiction, and ever then it's only the idea for the fanfiction. Enjoy!

**Difficult Notions**

That evening found Bobby's house hopping with guests, usual and unusual alike. Ellen and Jo were called in – much to Violet's excitement_ and_ concern – as well as Castiel joining their group of misfits. Beer was as plentiful as the uncertainty and it seemed to hang thickly in the air like smoke.

Violet and Jo stuck together for most of the evening until Violet decided to take some time alone and think over the next few hours, along with all the possibilities and repercussions. Jo was supportive of Violet's decision and didn't hang on her like a typical girl would, begging her to stay and party like it was the last night on earth.

That's because for some of them, it might be.

Violet meandered over to the boys to explain where she'd be if they needed her and she could already tell Dean had hammered the alcohol pretty hard. Probably because he was still trying to get over the fact that the devil was trying to take two of the closest people he had away from him. Sam gave her a somber nod, completely understanding he reasons for closing herself off for a little while. He considered it himself, but he knew he couldn't.

Castiel and Ellen were challenging each other to see who could down the most shots before passing out. Jo wandered that way to watch the madness unfold, although Castiel was ridiculous at drinking games.

Ellen downed a shot, made a face, and slapped the empty glass back down on the table.

"All right, big boy," she challenged Castiel. Jo took a swig from her gradually depleting beer bottle.

Castiel, instead of doing only one, downed all five in his row in rapid succession. Ellen watched him incredulously.

"I think I'm starting to feel something," Castiel said in his usual monotone, his demeanor not changing one bit. Jo gave him a look of unbelieving amusement.

Dean and Sam were still hunkered at the desk in the other room, discussing and arguing like usual.

"It's gotta be a trap, right?" Sam tried, shifting his bottle around on the desktop.

Dean chuckled through his nose humorlessly.

"Sam Winchester, having trust issues with a demon. Well, better late than never," he jabbed. Sam gave him a look bordering on "that's not funny" and "I guess I deserved that."

"And thank you again for your continued support," he responded with mock gratitude. He raised his bottle to clink it with Dean's.

"You're welcome," Dean replied, tapping the neck of Sam's alcoholic beverage to enjoy the merry tinkle of glass on glass. "You know, trap or no trap, we've got a snowball's chance of making it, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose," Sam murmured after a moments hesitation.

"Besides, I'm not sure it is a trap," Dean continued, shuffling around some papers on the desk to prove his point. "Check it out. Carthage is lit up like a Christmas tree with Revelation omens. And, look at this," he tossed down a few print-offs, "that's six missing persons reported in town since Sunday." He studied Sam's face and brought his beer to his lips. "I think the devil's there."

Sam digested this information and it felt blocky and weighty in his stomach.

"Okay," he replied finally.

"And if you think about it," Dean started again, adopting that expression he donned when he was about to say something difficult. "You can't come with. You or Violet. You're both the targets so why would we lead you right into the lion's den, right?"

"Dean," Sam began, ready to defend his honor like he had many times before.

"Look, I go against Satan and screw the pooch." Dean made a face. "Okay, we've lost a game piece. That we can take. But if you're there, then we are handing the devil's vessel right over to him. That's not smart."

"Since when have we ever done anything smart?" Sam countered quickly.

"I'm serious, Sam," Dean said harshly.

"So am I. Haven't we learned a damn thing? If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it together. All three of us, plus Jo and Ellen and Castiel."

Dean and Sam had a mild stare down. Dean, surprisingly, looked away first.

"Okay. But it's a stupid fricking idea."

Sam nodded in honest agreement. He couldn't deny it, but he was still going to go through with it.

Ellen exclaimed something from the kitchen and took another shot. Dean's attention shifted from Sam to the three around the table behind him. Sam's curiosity peaked and he looked over his shoulder as well.

"Boy, talk about stupid ideas," Sam murmured, referencing the drinking competition going on. Meanwhile, Dean's eyes had effectively glassed over and he'd gotten a stupid idea of his own brewing.

"Good God," Dean muttered, staring at Jo as she sauntered to the fridge. "True that."

Sam watched Dean as he pushed himself out of his chair, concern weaving its way into his thoughts. _This could end very badly for the little woman upstairs. Dean…what the hell are you doing?_

Dean was so inebriated his brain didn't find it in any form wrong to approach Jo the way he was about to. He liked Violet, he really did, but even before she came into the picture, he'd liked Jo. Perhaps not seriously, but enough that he'd say yes if she asked to go to bed with him. Pretty much just like any other attractive woman.

And that was another thing. It was wearing on him not having gotten any action lately. It wasn't anyone's fault but his, realistically, although he felt Violet was at least a little responsible, and not that she was aware of it. Again, it all came back around to him. It was his feelings for her that convicted him out of trying to get some tail, not necessarily Violet herself. She wasn't standing in front of him at every public place scolding him for indulging in letting his gaze stray a little. Except for that time she made a comment on it. That had shaken his beehive considerably and made him feel even worse thinking of a woman as just a source of pleasure. A plaything. And she was right for it, he supposed.

But tonight, none of that was present in the front of his mind. Thankfully Jo seemed to make up for him in the area.

Jo had just gotten done rummaging in the fridge for another beer, rear end prominent and eye-catching, when Dean approached her from behind. She turned and immediately stepped back in surprise at the proximity.

"Hey," Dean greeted not-so-smoothly.

"Hey," Jo replied, brushing some hair out of her face. She seemed to already know what Dean was going to try to play, but she let him continue.

"So. Dangerous mission tomorrow. Guess it's time to eat drink, and, you know, make merry."

"Are you giving me the last-night-on-earth speech?" Jo shot. Dean's balloon deflated slightly.

"What?"

"What?"

"No," Dean said, laughing to reassure her. She only smiled. "But if I was, would, uh, would that work?" he asked quite seriously.

Jo smiled, set down her beer, and reached up on her tiptoes to go in for a kiss. Just as contact was almost made, she halted.

"No. Sweetheart, if this is our last night on earth, I'm going to spend it with a little thing I call self-respect," she explained, nearly laughing in disbelief. Jo grabbed her beer and walked away, leaving Dean confused and also very disappointed. More in himself than anything, though, as he slowly realized what he'd just offered. His head hung low as he tried to play it off. He took another swig of beer.

"If you're into that kind of thing," he muttered toward her retreating form.

"Everybody get in here!" Bobby shouted from the other room. "Time for the lineup. Usual suspects in the corner," he instructed, hooking an eager thumb over his shoulder. As the misfits gathered, Bobby fussed with a camera on a tripod. "Someone go get Violet."

"Oh, come on, Bobby, nobody wants their picture taken," Ellen griped from behind him.

"Hear, hear," Sam agreed bitterly

"Shut up. You're drinkin' my beer."

Castiel entered just as Bobby finished fiddling with the camera and stepped back to join them in the corner.

"Anyway, I'm gonna need somethin' to remember your sorry asses by."

Dean, Jo, and Violet arrived to complete the group and everyone but Castiel smiled at Bobby's comment.

"Ha! Always good to have an optimist around," Ellen joked.

"Bobby's right. Tomorrow we hunt the devil. This is our last night on earth," Castiel droned.

Everyone's smiles faded gradually as the realization set in. Quite possibly some, or even all of them might not come home tomorrow.

The camera flashed, capturing their downcast faces.


	51. Internal Debates & Jealous Remains

**Internal Debates & Jealous Remains**

Once everyone started to feel the weight of sleep, room situations were quickly figured out and the house was soon quiet. Violet, Jo, and Ellen were put up in a fairly empty room upstairs where they had just enough space to roll out their sleeping bags. Ellen was snoring before the two girls had even really gotten situated.

"It's so nice to see you," Violet murmured, rubbing Jo's shoulder. Her words were tinted with sadness, though, and Jo picked up on it. She didn't need to ask why.

"It's nice to see you, too. We'll kick butt tomorrow, you'll see. And we'll laugh about it in a couple years. The boys won't know what to do with us," Jo joked softly.

Violet desperately wanted to believe Jo's words, but something sinister and sickening had settled in the pit of her stomach like she'd poured antifreeze down her throat. She smiled at Jo anyway, wanting to revel in the time she had with her. Make the most of it.

"Speaking of those boys," Jo began quietly. "I'm really not sure what to do with Dean. He gave me the last-night-on-earth speech." She laughed at the ridiculousness of it. "I'm pretty sure it was the beer talking, but it was just too funny."

"Silly Dean," Violet managed to squeeze out in a friendly tone. Meanwhile, something else was stirring darkly inside her, something by the infamous name of jealousy. Raw, thick jealousy. Her blood became molasses and she suddenly wanted nothing to do with the both of them. Quickly she tried to reason with herself.

_It's not Jo's fault. Dean approached _her.

_So then it's Dean's fault. That doesn't make it any better. How does it feel having another girl walk in and knowing he went after her in that way? He's never gone after you like that._

_Well, they've known each other longer._

_You're merely justifying things now, sweetheart. You've _been_ with Dean longer. They don't see each other that often, so realistically, _you_ know Dean better._

_Regardless, Jo and Dean are still my friends._

_And how would you feel if Jo had accepted Dean's offer? Hmmm?_

Violet didn't have an answer to that. At least not one she'd readily admit. She didn't know how she'd feel. Bad, probably. Betrayed, at least by Dean. Jo wouldn't be to blame because she didn't know of Violet's attraction to Dean. Overall, though, Violet was eternally grateful that Jo still had turned down Dean's inebriated offer without even knowing anything more.

"You're awful quiet," Jo commented, yawning into her hand.

"Yeah. There's just a lot of things to think about lately," she explained vaguely.

"I hear ya."

Within moments, Jo had followed her mother down the river of sleep. Violet was left wide-awake for hours afterwards, pondering tomorrow and who wouldn't come back home.


	52. Damage

**Damage**

The convoy rolled into Carthage later the next morning. It was drizzly and somber. The missing persons papers tacked to the telephone poles didn't help lighten the overall mood.

Dean and Sam both held their arms out the windows of the Impala, cell phones in hand, searching for any kind of signal. Violet watched them quietly from the back seat.

"You getting a signal?" Sam asked, although it was fairly obvious.

"No, nothing. Nice and spooky," Dean replied. He waved Ellen's truck up next to the Impala.

"Place seem a little empty to you?" Ellen commented dryly around Jo sitting shotgun.

"We're gonna check out the PD. You guys stay here, see if you can find anybody," Dean ordered.

"Okay," Ellen responded.

Dean drove off further down the road and Ellen parked the truck where the Impala had been previously. Jo jumped out as soon as the vehicle came to a stop and knocked on Castiel's window.

"Ever heard of a door handle?" she teased.

"Of course I have," Castiel replied, mildly scaring Jo as she turned around.

Castiel gazed around the deserted city with a searching expression on his face. Ellen could tell there was something they weren't seeing.

"What is it, Cas?" she asked softly.

"This town's not empty," he confirmed. "Reapers," he added after a beat.

"Reaper_s_? As in more than one?" Ellen asked, surprised.

"They only gather like this in times of great catastrophe. Chicago fire, San Francisco quake, Pompeii." His eyes continued to squint as he further observed their surroundings. "Excuse me. I need to find out why they're here." Without anything more, he walked off, leaving Jo to give her mother a suggestive look before they hopped back into the truck to see if they could find anyone.

A short while later, the two girls came upon the threesome.

"The station's empty," Dean said without a hint of surprise.

"So is everything else," Jo explained.

"Have you seen Cas?" Ellen asked.

"What?" Sam said, confusion knitting his brow. "He was with you."

"Nope. He went after the reapers."

"Reapers?" Dean questioned.

"He saw reapers? Where?" Sam seconded.

"Well, kind of…everywhere," Jo put in.

The boys gave one another an interesting look. Violet stayed silent behind them, the sick feeling getting worse. She found she really did not want to be there for more reasons than one.

So, without further ado, they loaded up their weapons and scouted the town, looking for trouble. Or, in this specific case, the devil. Jo and Violet stayed close together in their already tight pack, the boys bringing up the back.

"Well this is great, we've been in town for twenty minutes and already lost the angel up our sleeve," Dean grumbled.

_He'll be fine. He can look out for himself. We might lose more than that if we're not more careful, _Violet thought morbidly.

"You think Lucifer got him?" Sam asked hesitantly.

"I don't know what else _to_ think," Dean replied.

"There you are." An uninvited voice joined their conversation. The entire group swiveled, shot guns aimed for the source.

"Meg." Sam was less than thrilled. A confused look overtook Ellen's face and she glanced at the boys for answers she wouldn't get.

"You shouldn't have come here, boys."

"Hell, I could say the same for you," Dean growled, slipping out the Colt and taking a few steps toward Meg. He aimed it right at her face.

"Didn't come here alone, Deano." Meg made a clicking noise. A puddle near her foot splashed without warning and canine snarls and growls were heard. Everyone glanced hurriedly around for the source of the noise, including Dean, who was attempting to appear unafraid. Violet prayed hard for his safety, as well as for the rest of them. The feeling in her stomach continued to grow more like molten lava with every minute that passed.

"Hellhounds," Dean said stiffly.

"Yeah, Dean. Your favorite! Come on, boys. My father wants to see you," Meg told them.

"I think we'll pass, thanks," Sam replied sternly.

"Your call. You can make this easy, or you can make it really, really hard," Meg explained without a drop of sympathy. Dean glanced back at Ellen and caught a glimpse of Violet in the process. Her face had drained of all color. He didn't figure that was a good sign. Ellen, oblivious to Violet, nodded at Dean, giving him the go ahead.

"When have you known us to ever make anything easy?" Dean asked rhetorically. Meg shook her head in disappointment and also in warning not to shoot.

Dean shifted his aim next to her foot and fired. Thick black blood spurted from the hellhound, effectively aggravating it and its brothers.

"Run!" Sam shouted. Meg laughed, amused, as the hellhounds took off, their snarls bloodthirsty and intentions merciless. Like synchronized soldiers, the group turned tail and sprinted as fast as they could down the street, rapidly searching for a safe haven.

A hellhound caught up to Dean and slammed him to the ground. Through her hair whipping around her, Violet saw it happen.

"_Dean!_" she screamed.

"Dean!" Jo echoed, and, being quicker on the uptake than Violet, bolted back to assist him.

"Jo, stay back!" Dean warned halfheartedly. She came at the hellhound, cranking out shotgun shells and burying the bullets into the beast without fear. Violet, finally catching on, readied her shotgun and fired off a few rounds, helping Jo fend off the hounds as Sam tried the doors of an open hardware store nearby. Jo had shoved the hound off Dean, but another was coming at her from behind. Violet knew it was going to happen before she could really react.

Jo spun too late and fell to the ground under the weight of the beast. She screamed at the same time Violet did, only a split second before her mother.

"_Jo!"_

"_No!" _Ellen bellowed, sprinting toward her.

The hound had dug his claws into her before anyone could come to her immediate rescue.

Dean, closer to Jo than anyone, scrambled over to her and scooped her up. Blood gushed from the wound in her stomach and she whimpered involuntarily. Sam and Ellen and Violet unloaded shells into the hounds, fending them off as Dean carried Jo to safety. Violet booked it over to them, adrenaline pumping in her veins and her heart in her throat.

They hunkered down in the hardware store. Sam grabbed some chain and wrapped it around the door handles to keep the hounds at bay. Dean leaned Jo back against the counter and searched frantically around for something else to set up the perimeter with. Ellen and Violet directed their full attention to Jo.

"Okay, okay okay okay, breathe now…" Ellen chanted, keeping her wild emotions in check. Violet brushed hair out of Jo's face and kept from crying.

Dean fisted two large bags of rock salt as Ellen expressed her need.

"Boys, need some help here!"

Dean tossed a bag to Sam, slitting both bags open, and they began quickly laying down lines of salt along the doorways and windows. Once finished, they joined Ellen, Jo, and Violet beside the counter to assess the damage. Jo was breathing heavy, moaning and overall not looking too good. Violet glanced up at Dean and he couldn't take the look in her eyes.

Ellen slowly peeled Jo's hand away from her injury and it spurted blood. Sam, Dean, and Violet stared at Ellen who looked up over her shoulder at them. Jo's eyes were pleading.


	53. Deliberate Distractions

**Deliberate Distractions**

Violet held Jo's hand firmly as Ellen bandaged her up. Jo still couldn't help whimpering and Violet didn't blame her for it. As Ellen continued to tend to her daughter, Violet attempted to get her mind off of the wound.

"Jo, do you remember when we first met?" Violet asked quietly.

"M-Mhm," Jo replied.

Sam walked over and handed Ellen a bowl.

"Do you remember how much of a wuss I was?"

"Y-you weren't a wuss," Jo corrected. "J-just inexperienced."

"Exactly. You know how you took me under your wing even though we'd only just met? You told me you'd look after me and you'd teach me some things. And now look where I am."

"You're a fine hunter, Vi," Jo agreed, concentrating hard on the conversation.

"And that's all because of you, Jo. I looked at you on that first day and thought, man, she's a tough girl. I wished I could be like that. Confident, strong, and with a spirit to fight for the ones you love. I admire that about you, Jo." Violet's voice had become something akin to a sob, but she held it all in. Now was not the time. "Now, show me and your mom and those Winchester boys what you're made of. Show us that you're strong. You're still the ass-kicking woman I met back in that vampire nest."

Jo gripped Violet's hand harder, her nails digging into flesh. Both of them clamped their eyes shut at the onslaught of emotion.

Sam wandered over to where Dean was, fiddling with something electronic. Keeping his mind off the glaringly obvious possibilities.

"How's she holding up?" Dean asked tentatively. Sam only sighed and gave him a look.

"Salt lines are holding up," Sam replied instead.

"Safe for now," Dean murmured.

"Safer. Trapped like rats," Sam muttered. Dean glanced at him with an expression that meant Sam was being unreasonable.

"Hey, you heard Meg. Her father's _here_. This is our one shot, Sammy, and we gotta take it no matter what." Dean realized only after he'd spoken what he said. Sam's solemn expression didn't change. Dean went back to fussing with the electronic device and it flashed.

"Here we go," Dean grumbled.

"Sam, some help here, please?" Ellen called from the back of the store. Dean's gadget squealed.

Meanwhile, Bobby was trying to get through to the boys. Thus far, he'd had little success.

"The number you've dialed is unavailable. Please try your call again," the voice recited back to him.

"Damn it, boys," Bobby cursed under his breath. A radio crackled from the next room, grabbing Bobby's attention. He attempted to figure out where it was coming from. Hurriedly, he wheeled over and slapped a book off the CB radio.

"K C 5 Fox Delta Oscar, come in," Dean fought through the static.

"K C 5 Fox Delta Oscar, go ahead," Bobby replied, thankful to have finally made contact.

"Bobby, it's Dean. We've got problems," Dean admitted.

Bobby sighed away from the radio and glanced heavenward.

"It's okay, boy. That's why I'm here," Bobby replied reassuringly. "Is everyone all right?"

Dean hesitated. Saying it aloud would make it true, somehow.

"No. Uh, it's – it's Jo. Bobby, it's pretty bad," Dean confessed, his voice shaking slightly.

Bobby shook his head and grasped the transmitter tight.

"Okay," he began calmly. "Copy that. So now we figure what we do next."

"Bobby, I don't think she's-" Dean broke off, holding a finger to his lips as his eyes swam.

"I said, what do we do next, Dean?" Bobby asked forcefully, ignoring what Dean just tried to say for his sake and sanity.

Dean, back at the hardware store, leaned his forehead on his hand to get himself back to normal.

"Right," he said finally, thinking business. "Okay. Right."

"Now. Tell me whatchu got."

Dean gave him the rundown of their activities in good ol' Carthage and also the undetermined whereabouts of a certain feathered friend.

"Before he went missing, did Cas say how many reapers?" Bobby inquired.

"I don't – he said a lot of things, I guess. Does the number matter?"

"Devil's in the details, Dean," Bobby reminded him.

Ellen snuck up behind Dean and whapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. He seemed surprised to see her away from Jo. It took him a second to realize what she was there for and held up the microphone to her.

"Bobby, it's Ellen. The way he was looking - the number of places Castiel's eyes went, I'd say we're talking over a dozen reapers, probably more," she explained for Dean.

Bobby's eyes widened and he nearly let out a string of curses. "I do not like the sound of that."

"Nobody likes the sound of that, Bobby, but what – wh – what does that sound like?" Dean asked gruffly, although his thin façade wasn't fooling anybody.

"It sounds like death, son. I think Satan's in town to work a ritual," Bobby replied simply. He flipped a page in the book in front of him to a Post-it that read "Seventh Seal." "I think he's planning to unleash Death."

"You mean, like, as in this dude and taxes are the only sure thing?" Dean deadpanned morbidly.

"As in Death. The horseman. The pale rider in the flesh."

"_Unleash?_ I mean, hasn't Death been tromping around all over the place? Hell, I've died several times myself," Dean countered in disbelief.

"Not this guy. This is the angel of death. Big daddy reaper. They keep this guy chained in a box six hundred feet under. Last time they hauled him up, Noah was building a boat." Bobby paused, a sudden realization slapping him in the face. "That's why the place is crawling with reapers. They're waiting on the big boss to show." His finger shook as he took it off the button.

Dean stared at the floor as he let the information sink in. He could hardly contain himself. Everything was starting to seem like the only way out was down the drain.

"You have any other good news?" Dean asked incredulously, resting his lips on his fist.

"In a manner of speaking," Bobby said. He closed the first book he was reading from. On the cover was printed large, golden letters that read "Holy Bible." He quickly skipped to another book that was already open to a page headed "The Battle of Carthage." "I been researching Carthage since you been gone. Tryin' to suss out what the devil might want there. What you said just drops the last piece of puzzle in place. The angel of death must be brought into this world at midnight through a place of awful carnage. Now, back during the Civil War, there was a battle in Carthage. A battle so intense, the soldiers called it the Battle of Hellhole."

"Where'd the massacre go down?" Dean asked, his voice void of emotion.

"On the land of William Jasper's farm."


	54. Fragility

**Fragility**

Jo's hand still clamped onto Violet's like a lifeline and Violet continued to murmur sweet memories into her ear.

"That's my girl, you're okay honey…" Ellen cooed, stationed on Jo's other side. Violet glanced over at the boys, a couple feet away, discussing something heated.

"Now we know where the devil's gonna be, we know when, and we have the Colt," Dean relayed. Sam sighed at the impossible notion, obviously not tickled by Dean's eagerness.

"Yeah. We just have to get past eight or so hellhounds and get to the farm by midnight," he replied bluntly.

"Yeah, and that's after we get Jo and Ellen and Vi the hell out of town."

Violet's ears perked up at the quiet mention of her name.

"Won't be easy," Sam warned him, his tolerance wearing threadbare.

"Stretcher?" Dean asked quickly.

"I'll see what we got," Sam said, but his heart wasn't in it. He turned to start searching when Jo's voice surprised everyone.

"Stop," she began feebly. "Guys, stop."

"Jo?" Violet asked her. Jo gave her a look and nodded. Violet's face fell and she couldn't look Jo in the eyes.

Ellen's gaze switched from the boys and back to Jo.

"Can we, uh, be realistic about this please?" Jo questioned, her voice trembling. Violet gripped her hand with both of hers.

Dean and Sam approached Jo trepidatiously, uncertain of what she might say and terrified at the worst possibility.

"Uh!" she groaned. "I can't move my legs. I can't be moved. My guts are being held in by an ace bandage. We gotta – we gotta get our priorities straight here."

Dean and Sam exchanged a look. _This isn't going to end well._

Violet's eyes were shut and she held Jo's hand to her forehead.

"Number one, I'm not going anywhere," Jo said with authority.

"Joanna Beth, you stop talking like that," Ellen tried.

"Mom. I can't fight. I can't walk. But I can do something. We got propane, wiring, rock salt, iron nails, everything we need," Jo continued, the shakiness of her voice increasing. Ellen's lips started to tremble, warning her of the oncoming tears.

Sam was lost on her last words.

"Everything we need?" he echoed.

"To build a bomb, Sam," Jo replied simply.

"No," Dean protested softly. "Jo, no." He acted like those would be the last words said, Jo would submit, and they'd all make it out of there alive, but Violet knew better. Jo was smart. And she was smart when combatting against Dean, especially in times like these. She wouldn't just roll over because of his stubbornness and hope.

"You got another plan?" Jo challenged sternly. "You got _any_ other plan? Those are hellhounds out there, Dean. They've got all of our scents. Those bitches will never stop coming after you. We let the dogs in, you guys hit the roof, and make a break for the building next over. I can wait here with my finger on the button and rip those mutts a new one. Or at least get you a few minutes' head start, anyway," Jo explained.

"No, I – I won't let you," Ellen protested, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

"This is why we're here, right?" Jo reminded them strongly. Her mother shook her head frantically. "If I can get us a shot at the devil – Dean, we have to take it," she told him, staring him straight in the eyes.

"No!" Ellen interjected again. She glanced up at Dean again for someone to back her up. Violet had so much sympathy for her. "That's not-"

"Mom. This might literally be your last chance to treat me like an adult. Might wanna take it?" Jo told her mother with a hint of a joking tone, but her voice was ready to break with all the overflowing emotions. Jo smiled weakly for her mother. Ellen began to sob. A handful of tears leaked from Violet's eyes, but she didn't make a sound. Just continued to hold Jo's hand to her forehead and pray.

Ellen finally looked back up at Jo and she gave her a smile and a nod like _this is what I want, Mom._ Ellen returned it through her whimpers, realizing she couldn't fight anymore.

"You heard her," Ellen murmured finally. "Get to work."

Sam and Dean promptly scrambled around the store for the materials Jo mentioned and began creating bombs. They filled numerous buckets with nails and rock salt for shrapnel as well as the propane tanks for the initial blast. Night quickly overtook them as they worked and time started to feel increasingly short.

After most of the preparations, Sam came over and held Jo's hand affectionately as Dean strung out the wire to the button Jo would hold. Violet and Ellen had backed away to allow the rest of them to say their goodbyes.

"Okay, this is it," Dean murmured to Jo as Sam backed away, leaving the two of them alone. Violet stood with Sam and Ellen on the far side of the store, one arm crossed tight over her stomach at the other worrying her lips with her fingernails. "I'll see you on the other side. Probably sooner than later."

"Make it later," Jo asked him.

Dean grabbed her hand and wrapped it around the button. Jo allowed the tears to run as Dean kissed her on the forehead and then on the lips. He got up quickly, before he lost himself.

Violet took that as her last cue to say anything she might regret if she held back. The sight of Jo brought more tears to her eyes and she let them come, but the sobs would have to wait.

"Hey," Violet said, giving Jo a weak smile. She grasped her hand tight again, although Jo's strength was waning. "I guess I can't stop you from doing this. If Dean couldn't, I sure as hell can't. And I don't care if you don't want me to get all sappy, but I need to say this or else I won't be able to forgive myself." She paused, forcing back the lurch of emotion desiring to fill her voice with hiccups and sobs. "I just w-wanted you to know that you are like a sister to me – the sister I never really had. It's been a long time since I could trust someone as much as I've trusted you – and I know you've reciprocated that. I wish we could have been able to laugh about this in a couple years, like you said, but I guess this is where we part. I love you, Jo, and you have a special place in my heart. You've given me so much joy as a friend and mentor. Good luck," Violet finished, shakily kissing Jo's bloody knuckles and stepping back to allow Ellen to have her last words.

Violet again joined the boys at the far end of the store. Tears streamed quietly over her dirty cheeks and her lips threatened to break loose a barrage of embarrassing sobs. She tried to use her fingers to stop them, covering her mouth firmly with the palm of her hand. Dean couldn't take watching her try to be brave about it and spun her into his arms, crushing her to him. She immediately latched onto his jacket and sobbed into his chest; thankfully the material muffled most of the sound.

_I'm sorry I was jealous, Jo. I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve those thoughts even if it wasn't your fault._

Ellen sat down next to Jo and smiled at her, determined. Jo smiled feebly back, but also became confused. Ellen nodded and Jo shook her head as hard as she could muster.

"Mom, no," Jo protested wetly.

"Somebody's gotta let 'em in. Like you said, you're not moving. You got me, Jo. And you're right, this is important," Ellen explained. Jo nodded. "But I will not leave you here alone." Ellen's voice was low and final. More tears forced exit from Jo's eyes.

"Dean," Sam said after a quiet pause.

"Get going now, boys," Ellen ordered resolutely.

"Ellen-" Dean began.

"I said go."

Sam glanced at Dean who didn't return his gaze. They all felt the finality and began to walk away, Violet with them.

"And Dean?" Ellen asked. Dean looked back expectantly. "Kick it in the ass. Don't miss."

Dean nodded like the hard-hearted soldier he was and the three of them made for the exit.

Ellen gazed at Jo and brushed some hair from her face, smiling at her as if nothing in the world was wrong. Jo released a couple pent up sobs. Ellen then proceeded to unchain the door, sweep away the thick salt line, open the propane tanks, and finally came back to sit next to Jo, hugging her.

"I will always love you, baby," Ellen whispered.

The hellhounds become audible again, raging outside with bloodlust burning in their veins. This caught Ellen's attention. When she looked back down at Jo, her own blood ran cold. She wasn't moving.

"Honey? Jo-?"

Ellen's sobs were unrestrained.

"It's okay, it's okay," she told Jo and kissed her on the head. "That's my good girl."

The doors blasted open and two hellhounds slammed into the store. Ellen prepared herself.

Meanwhile, Sam, Dean, and Violet made their escape. Sam ran across the fire escape with Violet and Dean right behind. Sam slid down the ladder, ushered Violet to do the same, and Dean followed suit. They all hurried down the alley, knowing the clock was ticking.

The hellhounds scoured the store, approaching the two women faster and faster. Ellen shakily held her finger above the button. A hellhound exhaled and it brushed through Ellen's hair. She forced a demented grin and gripped Jo's fingers against the button.

"You can go straight back to hell, you ugly bitch!" Ellen exclaimed through ground teeth and mashed her finger down.

Outside, Violet and the boys had just barely cleared the alleyway when the store exploded. They stopped to watch it and finality rang free and true. As they shook off the spellbound feeling created by the fire, they booked it down the street away from the scene of the crime. Putrid smoke billowed into the air, coloring the sky with black and red.

The colors of Violet's emotions.


	55. The Devil's Playground

**The Devil's Playground**

Sam, Dean, and Violet snuck through some bushes circling the edge of the property. Dozens of men stood in the field, attention on something out of sight.

"I guess we know what happened to some of the townspeople," Dean deadpanned. Violet rolled her eyes. That was just Dean's way of coping with the unmentionable. There was an awkward pause where neither of the boys was sure what to say next, if anything.

"Okay," Sam said after a deep breath.

"Okay," Dean echoed.

_You sure are men of many words, _Violet thought to herself.

"Last words?" Sam asked, glancing at each of them.

"I'd rather not think of it that way," Violet murmured darkly. Dean looked at Violet, considered what she'd said, and then looked at Sam

"I think I'm good," Dean said.

"Yeah. Me too," Sam replied, worry wrinkling his brow.

"Uh, Violet, I guess try to stay out of sight. We'll try to handle this," Dean said, trying to express his concern for her in the most neutral way possible.

"But isn't Sam going out there just as bad?" Violet countered.

"Well, yeah, but if Lucifer gets both halves, then we're really done for."

Violet sighed in a decompressing way. _I'd rather stay out of this anyway. Thanks for the excuse._

"Just for you, Dean, I'll stay out of sight. Go get 'em, boys." She placed a hand on each of their shoulders as if to siphon over any remaining strength she had.

"Here goes nothing," Dean muttered.

The boys snuck through the gathered townspeople to get closer to Lucifer at the center. He was filling a large hole with a shovel.

"Hey!" Sam shouted, loading and readying his shotgun. Lucifer turned and dropped the shovel, wiping his hands of the dirt that had accumulated on them. "You wanted to see me?"

"Oh, Sam, you don't need that gun here. You know I'd never hurt you. Not really," Lucifer tried to reassure Sam, but it was creepier than anything.

"Yeah? Well I'd hurt you," Dean growled through clenched teeth. He aimed the Colt directly at Lucifer's head. Point-blank. "So suck it."

Dean unhesitatingly fired the gun and Lucifer collapsed like a bag of bones. None of the townspeople seemed to care that their leader was just murdered. Dean and Sam looked from one another to the corpse in disbelief and triumph.

Violet held her hands to her face, but her eyebrows slowly crinkled together.

"There's no way it was that easy…" she whispered from behind the trees.

Lucifer suddenly inhaled and shifted positions.

"Owwww!" he complained, taking deep breaths. Finally, he stood and stared at Dean angrily. Sam's eyes widened. He was as horrified as his brother. "Where did you get that?"

Dean simply stared at him, still not properly processing what just occurred. Lucifer, not really caring for an answer, punched Dean, propelling him back into a tree. His body slammed into it and he landed hard on the damp earth. Sam watched it all unfold and stared back at Lucifer. Violet rushed over to Dean.

"Now, where were we?" Lucifer asked with a grin on his face. "Don't feel too bad, Sam. There's only five things in all of creation that gun can't kill, and I just happen to be one of them. But if you give me a minute, I'm almost done."

Sam sprinted over to Dean to check his pulse while Lucifer wasn't looking. Not like it really mattered, though.

"Is he all right?" Sam asked Violet, crouched over Dean. She nodded.

"He's got a pulse. He's just unconscious."

Lucifer shoveled two scoops of dirt and stopped to lean on the shovel's handle. He glanced over at Sam and Dean and his face lit up as he registered the third party member.

"My bride! I thought you might be here. Get over here and I'll give you a proper greeting!" Lucifer exclaimed. Violet froze and her eyes turned panicky. Sam couldn't do anything for her, unfortunately.

As if on a cable, she was yanked off her feet and propelled through the air toward Lucifer. She landed in his arms and he coiled them around her possessively, attempting to give her a kiss. She writhed and wiggled, pushing his face away. He found it a lovely challenge.

As she continued to fight his hold, he spoke to Sam.

"You know, I don't suppose you'd just say yes here and now? I've got my queen; now all I need is my suit." Sam stood up, eyes darting between Violet's frantic expression and Lucifer's pleasured one. "We could end this whole tiresome discussion. But that's crazy, right?"

"It's never gonna happen!" Sam shouted. Violet persisted in struggling. Sam began to work on a plan to get her back. Dean would be livid if he knew she was in the arms of the devil.

"I don't need you quite yet, sweetheart. I just wanted to get a taste," Lucifer whispered into Violet's ear as she twisted around in his arms. Finally, he planted a kiss and Violet went limp. "Hm. Not a very lively one, is she? I'll fix that when I get the chance," Lucifer said offhandedly and released Violet. She crumpled to the ground and rolled down the mound of dirt toward Sam. He caught her in his arms and she groaned, spitting out wet dirt. Sam swallowed hard and glared at Lucifer.

"Never," Sam spat again.

"Oh, I don't know about that, Sam. I think it will. I think it'll happen soon. Within six months. And I think it'll happen in Detroit," Lucifer said certainly with a smile.

"You listen to me, you son of a bitch. I'm gonna kill you myself, you understand me? I'm going to rip your heart out!" Sam yelled, lying Violet down next to Dean.

"That's good, Sam. You keep fanning that fire in your belly. All that pent up rage. I'm gonna need it. Same goes for you, my dear," Lucifer called.

"Go to hell, you bastard," Violet groaned.

"Your powers aren't strong enough for that yet!" Lucifer told her in singsong.

Sam forcibly calmed himself down and attempted to reroute the conversation. Perhaps he could acquire some valuable information yet. He glanced around at the townspeople, still doing nothing.

"What did you do? What did you do to this town?" Sam inquired evenly.

"Oh, I was very generous with this town. One demon for every able-bodied man," Lucifer said, continuing to fill that blasted hole.

"And the rest of them?" Sam asked, almost certain he didn't want to know the answer.

Lucifer paused and pointed to the pit.

"In there."

Sam's eyes filled with sympathy for all the people buried under the pile of earth.

"I know, it's awful, but these horsemen are so demanding. So it was women and children first. I know what you must think of me, Sam. But I have to do this. I have to. You of all people should understand."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked, honestly confused. His anger from earlier was beginning to build up again; reignited by the innocent lives rotting in the dirt. Lucifer tossed down the shovel.

"I was a son. A brother, like you, a younger brother, and I have an older brother who I loved. Idolized, in fact. And one day I went to him and I begged him to stand with me, and Michael – Michael turned on me. Called me a freak. A monster. And then he beat me down. All because I was different. Because I had a mind of my own," Lucifer explained. Sam was desperately trying to ward off all the bad memories these words unearthed. "Tell me something, Sam. Any of this sound familiar? Anyway, you'll have to excuse me. Midnight is calling and I have a ritual to finish. Don't go anywhere. Not that you could if you would."

Sam, flustered and angry, went back down to check on Dean and Violet as Lucifer began his chant. Violet had her ear pressed to Dean's chest when Sam approached them.

"His heartbeat is nice and strong. From what I know, that's a good sign," she relayed to Sam. Her entire body had a film of dirt covering it and she didn't seem the least bit disturbed by it. She caught him giving her the up-and-down and knew exactly what it was for. "Sam. There are worse things to be covered in."

"Now repeat after me," Lucifer ordered his demons, catching Violet's and Sam's attention. "We offer up our lives, blood, souls…"

Dean sat up and breathed in deeply. Violet patted his chest.

"Glad to have you with us."

"We offer up our lives, blood, souls…" the demons echoed eerily.

"To complete this tribute," Lucifer finished.

"To complete this tribute."

As if a chain reaction was started, one by one the demon's eyes flashed gold and they fell over, dead. Sam, Dean, and Violet looked on, staring. Lucifer turned to stare back at them.

"What? They're just demons," he said as if to gain some form of agreement. He turned back to look at the mass grave. Sam continued to glare at Lucifer. Dean glanced between them and Violet shared his look of fear. The ground rumbled beneath them and it made Violet's heart skip a beat. _Maybe we won't be coming home after all. Sorry, Bobby, to take your boys down with me…_

Another presence joined them and Violet had to squelch the urge to squeal at the suddenness. Castiel held a finger to his lips and despite the hatred Violet couldn't help but feel for him, she also had to suppress the desire to hug him.

Lucifer spun to look at the three of them smugly, but there was no one there to watch. It didn't seem to disturb him. He walked forward into the center of the filled pit, that grin still plastered on his face.

"Oh, hello, Death."


	56. In The Mourning

**In the Mourning**

That next morning found all of them – minus an angel – in front of the TV watching madness unfold. Violet couldn't help continuing to stare at the overturned shot glasses still out on the table in the kitchen. They reminded her of Ellen. She reminded her of Jo.

The TV blared about a tornado in Paulding County.

"Just received an update that the governor has declared a state of emergency for Paulding County, including the towns of Marion, Fetterville, and Carthage. The storm system has reportedly touched off a number of tornadoes in the area," the woman declared from the TV.

Sam, Dean, Bobby and Violet gathered around the fireplace instead of listening to the havoc they'd nearly been a part of. Bobby held a copy of the photograph taken yesterday.

"Death tolls have yet to be estimated, but state officials expect the loss of life and property to be staggering," the TV droned on in the background.

Bobby leaned forward and dropped the picture into the consuming flames. Violet wiped away a couple silent tears and squeezed Dean's arm with sympathy and thanks. He held his own hand over her fingers and rested it there warmly. Their gazes met and Dean watched Violet's heart break all over again in her shining, blurry eyes.

He was slammed with how much hurt she had to be experiencing and it made him tighten his grip on her hand. That year had been hard for her. First she lost her mother to the supernatural, then her sister, and now her best friend. Jo was the only female friend Violet had in probably the last ten years. The only girl she could trust and cry with and laugh with, along with being hunters together.

Dean knew very well what it was like to lose a parent and a sibling (temporarily, at least), but he was hardened before all that. He was a stone soldier before his father even died. Violet was nowhere near that. She was still an innocent girl who had the great misfortune of being dragged into all this mess. And now she had lost someone else to it.

The fact that she was showing Dean sympathy and trying to make him feel better just compounded how utterly baffled he was about her. She had just lost the third person she loved dearly to the supernatural _and it hadn't been a year yet. _So much loss, and yet she was reaching out to him, to comfort _him_. It all overcame him with such an emotion he hadn't warranted - or even recognized - that he wrapped her up into a strong hug.

The four of them watched the photograph dissolve into ashes.

Two lives, wasted in vain.


	57. Repercussions

**Repercussions**

That night took second place in Violet's ranking of "worst times in her life," the first slot filled with the previous day, of course. She couldn't keep herself asleep long enough to have her typical nightmare, thankfully, but the reasons she was kept awake were almost worse. Apparently, while she was slumbering, she was thrashing about and crying so loudly that Sam came to check on her (they allowed her to sleep by herself in another room, which allegedly ended up being a bad idea) and eventually Dean set up his sleeping bag alongside her, hoping that would quell whatever it was making her go so crazy in her sleep. And, he'd joked, if she started flailing around again, he was close enough she could punch him to wake him up and in turn, shake her out of whatever was possessing her.

She'd thanked Dean graciously, and although she felt extremely self-conscious of how she looked – tear-stained face, crazy hair, and rumpled clothing – he made her feel like she didn't have to care and that was a nice feeling.

Dean's presence alone allowed her to fall into a shallow slumber for just a couple hours, and while that was nice, other thoughts began to creep in and keep her awake. Dawn was nearly breaking when she awoke completely and couldn't for the life of her fall back asleep.

She ran her fingers through her already disheveled hair and scrubbed her hands over her face. Getting up on her knees, she shuffled over to the window and crossed her arms on the sill, gazing out at the horizon over the scrap lot that was Bobby's backyard.

These new thoughts were getting on her very last nerve, but she couldn't simply dismiss them. They had reason. And when it came right down to it, you couldn't argue with logic. Unless you're Dean Winchester.

She glanced over her shoulder at his sleeping form. How easy it would be to confess her attraction to him and banish the strangeness between them. How easy it would be to simply lie down next to him and profess her love for him, to realize their mutual feelings.

She shook the treasonous thoughts from her mind. She couldn't do that if she was to go through with the plan brewing in her brain.

A heavy sigh left her lips as she debated the possibilities and their pros and cons. If she stayed alive for the next six months (or so Lucifer said, anyway) she'd probably become Satan's bride and turn away from the Violet she's worked so hard to achieve. Then she'd transform into a monster. The image in the mirror flooded her brain and she shut her eyes against it.

And not to mention Sam. He must have been feeling the weight of things as well, what with the recent news of him being the devil's vessel. Violet shivered. She didn't even want to know how that process worked.

"If I was out of the picture, would it really change things?" Violet thought aloud. If she was gone – for good – would that really change a whole lot? With Sam still in existence, the devil would still have his outfit to wear and wreak havoc that way, only without a queen. If Sam somehow resisted (or died) then perhaps that would slow the devil down as well, since normal humans can't fully contain him and he just burns right through them. He could probably still cause substantial trouble without his true vessel, then.

So when it came right down to it, either one of them getting cut out of the picture changed things about the same amount. The only niggle of concern she had was for the boys after she was gone. They'd still have to fight and figure out how to beat the devil and face Death, but they'd survived worse dealings, right? They've been hunters all their natural lives and they somehow managed to stay alive (with some help). They could take care of themselves, of course. And they had Castiel to look after them.

Still. She hated that it would have to end this way after all they'd been through. Her gaze carried back to Dean's sleeping face again.

"You would lock me up if you knew what I was scheming," she murmured. Coming away from the windowsill, she fell onto her hands and crawled over to Dean. "That's why you're not going to be the first person I tell." Dean stirred under her gaze, rolling his head toward her on his poor excuse for a pillow. His lips were parted oh so slightly, expression as relaxed as she'd ever seen him, and hair messier than usual. Otherwise, it was the same Dean she knew.

And it was the same Dean she'd leave behind.

She gave into her selfish desires and tousled some of his brown spikes before going even further and ghosting a hand over his stubbly cheek. So soft and warm and peach-fuzzy. It saddened her that she'd never get to fully experience Dean.

He stirred again and that stole her away from her reverie and dropped her back into the cold pool that was reality. The real world sucked as of late, if you asked her.

She stopped breathing when she realized Dean's eyes were open and her hand was still on his cheek and she was still hovering over him and oh God he'd caught her—

He smiled and brought his face up to meet her lips with his.

She melted.

If it would be even remotely possible to choose how she died, she'd pick this method.

"Good morning," she murmured when they finally disconnected. His head fell back onto the pillow and his eyes had closed. Her brow furrowed. "Dean?" She poked his shoulder and he rolled away from her.

A minor freak out attack ensued in her head.

_He was asleep still? What the hell?! His subconscious knew who he was kissing, though, right? Right?!_

She hefted a sigh and her head fell into her hands.

_It's better he wasn't awake, _she thought finally. _I'd have dug myself too deep to leave him like that. It's for the better, I suppose. _

She allowed herself to gaze at him for a few more minutes before pushing herself to her feet and padding downstairs to rummage around in the kitchen for something edible. Flicking a few lights on to banish the near darkness, she found an apple in the back of the fridge that seemed halfway decent.

Munching on the fruit, she sat at the table that, just barely more than twenty-four hours ago, housed the drinking game between Ellen and Castiel. Instead of delving deeper into those dangerous, emotion-filled thoughts, she decided to concentrate on a large spider that had managed to crawl up onto the table.

It wasn't moving very fast, but its long legs helped it take larger strides. Violet wrinkled her nose. Spiders were ugly. Not scary, necessarily, unless a giant one landed on your face, but just plain ugly. They're hairy and a bit spooky. What else was there to say?

The spider, as if sensing her disgust, began making its way toward her.

"Go away," she muttered, making a shooing motion with her hands.

Surprisingly, the spider turned one hundred and eighty degrees and continued meandering the other way. Violet's interest peaked.

_Does my power stretch beyond humans to animals, too? Living things in general?_

"Stop," she whispered, bringing her face low to the table. The arachnid halted immediately. "Jump," she said next, and the spider leaped into the air off the table.

It was making her giddy, controlling the little creature. Perhaps her powers were increasing in strength. That was another thing she had to be careful of, although at least she knew she couldn't eternally damn people yet, based on Lucifer's words.

"_Go to hell, you bastard," Violet had groaned._

"_Your powers aren't strong enough for that yet!" Lucifer told her in singsong._

Violet tried to remember what Castiel had told them about the extent of her powers the night she found out she was a cambion.

"_You can tell anyone to do anything, for starters. You can magic things into being true," _she heard Castiel echo in her mind.

"Magic things into being true? Like what, warping reality?"

With newfound interest, she concentrated hard on the spider and imagined transforming it into a nickel; something small for starters. She wasn't exactly sure what she had to do to make it happen, but she closed her eyes and thought of the image of the spider changing into a nickel.

After a few seconds of waiting, she opened her eyes a crack to see what, if anything, had transpired.

A small, shiny nickel replaced the hairy spider. She picked it up to examine it, just to make sure it was real.

"Oh, my God! I did it!" she exclaimed and jumped out of her chair, heedless of the rest of the tenants of the house.

"Did what?" a groggy voice asked from behind her. She shrieked in surprise and spun around like a whirlwind, dropping the nickel. As soon as it touched the floor, it had become a spider again.

"Oh, that's interesting," she murmured, watching the spider as it ran to the nearest wall and hugged it for safety. She glanced up at the being that decided to join her in the kitchen.

Sam ran a large and through his wild hair and yawned, going to the fridge just as she had earlier.

"Is there anything good in here?" he asked, sleep still thick on his tongue.

"I found an apple. Not sure what else might be lurking in there," she replied, sitting back down at the table to resume crunching on the apple in question. Sam snorted at her choice of words.

Sam ambled over to sit with her at the table, plopping down across from her with a piece of leftover pizza in hand. "Hopefully this isn't radioactive," he joked before taking a bite. He then pulled his laptop out of seemingly nowhere and snapped it open in front of him.

Violet pondered what to do next when she remember seeing some tea bags in one of the many cupboards covering the walls.

"I'm gonna make some tea. Want any?" she asked. He shook his head. She pushed herself away from the table and set out to find a mug, a tea bag, and some sugar.


	58. Dangerous Contemplations

**Dangerous Contemplations**

Violet perched herself back in the chair opposite Sam at the little table, a steaming mug of tea warming her hands as she stared into its swirling caramel-colored depths. She'd neglected to grab anything else edible; her stomach wasn't feeling all that stable after the apple and nothing seemed appetizing as it was. Sam tacked away, whether researching or surfing the web for his own enjoyment, Violet hadn't the foggiest. She didn't ask and therefore didn't know. She didn't really care, either. Just rather wonder and not know; with these boys, things were usually safer that way.

Sighing, she attempted to push back all the thoughts rumbling around in her mind, searching for a way out. Irritatingly, the same ones that had plagued her that night into the wee hours of the morning had decided to return for round two. It was getting tiring. Some she desperately wanted to voice, but she found it difficult trying to find the beginning and how to tell them to anyone who was not her subconscious.

Sam was oblivious for the moment. Violet was half relieved and half disappointed. If she made a distraught enough sound, perhaps he'd at least look up and ask her what it was for or what was wrong; then she'd _have_ to tell him the truth - or that's how it went in her head, anyway. And besides, he was the only brother she'd ever consider saying anything to. Dean would flip his lid if he knew all the things she was thinking.

_That's why you're not going to be the first person I tell._

"Sam?" she forced out finally, plummeting over the edge with her decision. Someone should know. Someone _needed_ to know. Or else she'd burn up from the inside out just holding it all in.

"Yeah?" Sam replied, eyes still glued to the computer screen as his quick fingers typed out words she couldn't see.

"I…need to tell you something," she continued, her initial bravery sprinting out of sight with a squeal. _Can't stop this snowball now…_

"What is it?" Sam asked then, eyes flickering up to her face. His expression portrayed to her that he'd correctly read the tone of her voice.

"Well, I've been thinking some things lately. Pondering. And it isn't really the best subject to be thinking about."

His eyes urged her to go on. She had his full attention now.

"What with everything that's happening…and might or will happen…I've been wondering if there is a better option for me than to try and fight through it all." Violet gulped and held her mug tighter, squeezing her hands so hard against it she thought they might meld with the ceramic. Or shatter it to pieces. Like she was about to do to herself.

"I'm an apple that's slowly going bad, Sam. We both know it. We _all_ know it. But we haven't talked about it. We haven't discussed our options because to some of us, there is only one. Now, I know Dean has his reasons, but…sometimes he tries to fabricate this idea that if it's in the best interest of him and the people close to him, it's the one and only and best option. What _I'm _looking at here is what's best for the greater good. What's best for the whole of humanity. I've found that Dean royally hates that perspective when that means putting the life of someone he knows in danger." Violet took a deep breath, replenishing the air in her lungs before continuing. Sam's attention was riveted and he had figured out from the get-go that she was not to be interrupted during her thought-vomiting.

"It's just like what happened with Jo. It's _exactly _like that. Although Jo was hurt and dying, Dean got this notion in his head that she was still savable. Jo somehow snapped him into focus and told it to him straight, saying our only way of survival was to leave her in that hardware store to buy us time to escape and get to safety. To Dean it's always all or none. Jo - thank God for her - was able to convince him that it was either she died and the rest of us lived, or we tried to save her and more of us – perhaps even all of us – died. Right now, it's like that to me. Get the probabilities and ratios and priorities straight. If you two try to keep me alive as long as possible, you may very well get your throats cut out by other hunters who _will _find out there's a cambion out there. I don't want you to sacrifice yourselves and then more humans on top of that when I could have saved everyone the trouble and just offed myself from the beginning."

"Suicide?" Sam questioned while raising an eyebrow and flipping the laptop lid closed to clasp his hands together on the table. His piece of pizza remained untouched.

"Suicide. You know, beat them all to the punch. No more Violet, no more potential to be Lucifer's queen, and everyone goes home happy. Well, except for you two. At least I would hope, anyway."

Sam chuckled slightly, but then his eyes turned dark as well as the rest of his face.

"So you're really serious about this?"

"Completely. I would kill myself tonight if I was sure it would help everyone out. Only…" Violet bit her lip nervously and her eyes darted away.

"Only?"

She brought her eyes back up to Sam's and made a determined decision not to break the contact no matter how strange she started to feel.

"Only…I don't know if I'm going to heaven or hell." She paused, waiting to see if he had any words for her. "I mean, I _think_ I'm a good person, but I'm also demon spawn. I feel like I've got a parking spot in hell with my name and the word _reserved_ painted on it. And I know only doing "good works" won't get you the golden ticket to heaven, but I'd still like to think if you're an all-around good person with good intentions, that's got to count for something, right?"

Sam leaned forward over the table, blinking his eyes sympathetically.

"And this is why you haven't killed yourself yet."

"This is the pitfall preventing me from making a firm decision. I couldn't really care less about heaven or hell or what have you, but…if I go to hell, can't they just wrangle up my soul, stick it in another vessel and call her Violet two-point-oh? Then my efforts would be utterly wasted and I'd have only slightly slowed down the process of becoming Lucifer's bride. And as far as _that_ whole crack bag goes, we all know there's no way we can honestly stop Lucifer. No offense to you, of course. And even if we did manage to stop him, I am almost 100% sure that all the demons would end up coming after me to try and use me for their own nefarious purposes," she explained quickly, having to gasp for air at the end of her speech.

"You've had a lot of time to think about this, haven't you?"

"Oh, tons. It's been so bad, it's what's keeping me up at night. I'm just hitting one snag, though. I'm one damn snag away from saving you and the rest of the world." She paused again, her voice having grown quieter as she wondered whether to say the next thought aloud. _What the hell. Why does it matter at this point, anyway? _"I think the only other thing that would really make killing me close to impossible is the thought of letting you and Dean go."

Her eyes rapidly welled and overflowed with tears, her lips curling and chin wobbling. She ran a distressed hand through her hair and looked away, partly ashamed and partly angry with herself. _So this is my tipping point. You are still so damn weak._

"The thought of leaving you two just kills me in its own right," she said, her voice quavering with sobs ready to break loose. "You're the only family I've got. And you've been the best I ever could have imagined."

"Aw, c'mon, quit it with that sappy stuff," Sam said, one side of his mouth up in a smile and a light playfulness to his tone.

"No!" Violet shouted, springing up from her chair and swiping out at the tea-filled mug to send it rocketing for the opposite wall. It splintered and shattered, throwing pieces of sharp white ceramic every which way. The contents sprayed brown all across the floor as well as the wallpaper. "You need to hear this or at least I need to say it because if I do make the decision to kill myself and I don't have the lady balls or the chance to tell you these things, I won't! And I absolutely do not want that to happen! So you will listen, here and now and know that I care for you two more than I ever thought possible and that there is no other place I'd have rather been this past year than with you and Dean in the impala saving people's lives and killing those supernatural sons of bitches!"

Sam simply stared, unable to produce a word let alone a suitable response. He let her purge herself of the thoughts she felt obligated to say.

"I've lost everyone I cared about and when I finally opened my heart back up to get Jo somewhere in there, she was ripped from me! And now that you two have found a place in there, I don't know what the hell to do!" She was practically screaming. Her voice bent and wobbled and broke, but she had continued nevertheless.

_One of us has found a place deeper than the other, I think, _Sam thought to himself.

Suddenly and impeccably, there was a flutter of wings and another presence joined them in the room. Castiel stood among the wreckage that had previously been a whole, full mug of tea. Curiously, he gazed around his feet and at the wall behind him, sniffing. He looked up and glanced at the two across from him, one seated and the other standing so straight it seemed painful.

"What flavor?" he asked unconcernedly, stepping toward them. Violet's eyebrows furrowed.

"Chamomile. Why…?"

"Smells too sweet."

Violet rolled her eyes and fell back into her chair, the abrupt appearance of Castiel having thrown a cooler of frigid water over the heat of her declaration and confession. "I tend to put _copious_ amounts of sugar in it," Violet replied, using a word of his and hoping he'd recognize the reference. His face remained expressionless, as usual.

"Why are you here?" Sam asked, getting down to business. Not surprising.

"I simply overheard the conversation and decided to make clear what the intended point of discussion was." His eyes found Violet's then. "Do you think your death will really make a difference in this war?"

_War?_ Violet thought absently before remembering that there was virtually always a war between angels and demons, heaven and hell. "I-I do. Do you think otherwise?" She was afraid of his answer. It frustrated her that his face was so unreadable. Then she realized something. "Hey, you hang around up in heaven. What types of people do they let in?"

Castiel's eyes narrowed slightly.

"What makes you think I would willingly disclose such information to the likes of you?"

"Dude, I'm just trying to help here. I'm planning on killing myself to save your feathery ass _and _the rest of the world, remember? And also "make a difference" in this "war" you're talking about. If I could know the answer to the only question keeping me from actually offing myself, then it could be done without complication." Violet blinked at him, his expression unwavering. "I've been on your side from the very beginning and I don't intend to change that," she added hopefully.

He contemplated her words thoroughly before nodding. "Very well. What you say is true. However, all I can say about heaven is that, in regards to your specific situation, we do have a place for humans who give themselves up for what is good and right."

Castiel glanced skyward – or, ceiling-ward – and then back down at the wondering humans.

"It seems I am being summoned. I must go now. Give my regards to Dean," Castiel muttered. With a blink of an eye and the faint sound of wings, he was gone.

"Damn it, I should have asked him to clean up my mess," Violet mumbled after a few quiet seconds, placing her face in her hands. "How am I going to explain that to Dean? And Bobby?"

Sam shrugged. "And hopefully he didn't hear you screaming, or at least not specifically the words."

"God, yeah. Well, he didn't bolt down the stairs at me mentioning my suicide, so hopefully that's good news."

"Yeah, hopefully."

Violet held Sam's gaze firmly, briefly trying to figure him out.

"You won't say a word?" she asked, although it was more of a command.

"Not a word. Not unless you want me to."

"No, I think if I ever want him to hear all of it, I'll tell him myself. It would be better all around for him to hear it from me anyway. Thank you, Sam. I know this is all a lot and parts of it are probably unnecessary-"

"Hey. It doesn't matter. It's all logical and you needed someone to hear it. Someone who wasn't going to lock you up in Bobby's panic room at the first mention of suicide until you convinced him you weren't really suicidal," Sam murmured, cracking a smile at the tail end. Violet smiled slightly too. "Although…"

"Although?" _Oh no. What's this about?_

"Although, personally I don't think they really like suicide upstairs. If I may, I'd suggest getting someone else to kill you. Not on a job or anything, but to get me or Dean to do it."

Violet breathed in deeply and let it out in a huge whoosh. "Oh, I would definitely have to prepare myself mentally for that."

"Well, as long as I'm concerned, you do still have a bit of time left with us. Don't worry about it. You'll know when it's time."

Violet sighed. "I suppose you're right. Well, I don't know about you, but I'm wired. All this emotion expressing just shot me up with adrenaline. I'll clean up my mess as best I can, but then I'm taking a run around the junkyard or something."

"Sounds like a plan," Sam murmured back, laughing, and opened up the laptop to continue whatever it was he had been doing before. Violet smiled at him as she got up from the table.

_Lucky am I to have friends like these._

Heavy footfalls came clomping down the stairs only a few minutes later, the rhythm almost frantic. Bobby swung around the corner into the kitchen and took in the scene. Violet glanced up at him from the receding brown puddle of mess on the linoleum. One more wipe and it almost looked like nothing had happened.

"Mornin', Bobby," Violet greeted. He seemed baffled by her demeanor.

"What in tarnation happened down here?" he demanded exasperatedly. "Upstairs, it sounded like a war was starting." Violet chucked the rag into the sink and dried her hands on her pajama pants as she approached Bobby.

"I'll explain, Bobby, but can I ask you something first…?"


	59. Going For a Run

"**Going For a Run"**

Dean finally joined the rest of the living a little while later and he took his sweet time making his way into the kitchen. He seemed to notice that Bobby was gone and Violet was AWOL as well.

"Where is everyone?" he asked Sam while grabbing a beer from the fridge. Sam, still perched in the same spot he had been earlier, stopped abusing the keys on his laptop to look up at Dean.

"Bobby went to go get food and Violet's out on a run," he explained, resuming typing.

"Oh. Running? What are you doing?" Dean spun the chair backwards and sat in it, flipping off the beer cap with the rough edge of the table.

"I've been researching Death and the Four Horsemen in general. You know how we ran into War a little while back? Well, that's only one fourth of the puzzle. Pestilence and Famine haven't made an appearance yet. It seems they are the strongest when they're all together, so I'd imagine that's what Lucifer is going to try to do next – summon them under his command and use them as pawns in his plan," Sam rambled, spinning the laptop toward Dean so he could see.

"Man. That party won't end well," Dean commented dryly before taking a swig of beer.

"Yeah. So I say let's try to take these Horsemen one at a time and keep an eye out for revelation omens. It's really all we can do. Aside from assumptions, we're not really sure what Lucifer plans to do next," Sam said darkly.

They both stewed about Sam's words in silence.

"So, Lisa called," Dean started casually. "She said something weird has been terrorizing her neighbor, something up our alley."

"Did she give you any clues as to what it might be?"

"Other than the neighbor is freaked out at something that keeps coming into her house and making weird noises every night, no," Dean replied, downing the rest of the beer. Sam gave him a searching, unbelieving look.

"Sounds like an everyday burglar to me," Sam told him uninterestedly.

"Lisa really thinks there's something strange going on. She wouldn't call and make up excuses just to see me," Dean countered.

"You want us to drive all the way to Cicero on someone's – not a hunter's – hunch?"

"We've driven farther on less," Dean reminded him, staring into his eyes.

Dean had a point, but Sam still didn't like the idea of revisiting Lisa with Violet around. It just tended to complicate things.

The back door opened and a huffing, sweating Violet wandered in.

"Oh, hey, Dean," she panted, nodding. "I'm about to go take a shower. Do we have any plans for the rest of today?" She brought up the bottom of her shirt and wiped her brow with it, unintentionally giving the two of them a good look at her flat belly.

"Nope, none yet," Sam replied quickly, giving Dean a look that said _we're not finished here._ Dean glared back at him.

"Okay. I'll be upstairs if you need me," she breathed, dragging her body up the stairs with trembling legs. _What a great way to burn off some steam and energy._

Meanwhile, the boys resumed their earlier conversation.

"I wouldn't take the job if I honestly didn't think it was worth anything," Dean added.

"We were _just in_ Cicero, Dean."

"Hey, new crap happens every day. You can call her back and try to get some details if you want, but we're leaving after Bobby gets back with the food, all right?" Dean said gruffly.

"We'd get in late even if we left now," Sam tried.

"My mind isn't changing, Sam. Someone needs our help. When don't we answer the bat signal?"

Sam sighed as Dean got up and tromped up the stairs, no doubt to roll up his sleeping bag and get everything ready to go. Again.


	60. Getting Down to Business

**Getting Down to Business**

The Impala and its passengers arrived at Lisa's house a little before midnight. Dean had stepped on the gas all the way here, almost like he was trying to prove a point.

The boys had more than enough time to explain to Violet what was going down and why they were heading back to Cicero, and she seemed less than pleased, although she kept her expression fairly indifferent during the explanation. For the remaining duration of the trip, she curled up with Dean's jacket in the back seat and replenished the sleep she had lost over the past few nights.

As Dean woke Violet and they evacuated the car, the front porch light flicked on and Lisa appeared quietly on the steps, wrapping a light jacket around her torso.

"Hey," she greeted with an overly eager smile (or at least, that's what Violet thought.)

"Hey," Dean said back as the three of them came to a stop at the foot of the modest steps. His smile was lit up, but it wasn't flirty or overly eager – friendlier than anything. Violet figured that was a good sign.

"Any more-" Sam began to get down to business, but Lisa expertly cut him off.

"We didn't formally meet before," she told Violet, looking down at her with a quaint grin and sticking out a hand. "I'm Lisa."

"Violet," Violet replied, shaking her outstretched hand. Dean shifted his weight from foot to foot awkwardly. Sam cleared his throat.

"Anyway, Lisa, have you gotten any more leads on what might be bothering your neighbor?" Sam asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Violet stood there next to him, uncertain what to do with herself. She just settled for crossing her arms loosely over her chest.

"Nothing new besides what I already told Dean. But we can go over and ask her now."

"Are you sure she's awake? I mean, it is late."

"No, it's fine. She' hasn't gotten much sleep lately with whatever it is coming into her house at night anyway. Come on. I'll introduce you," Lisa reassured them, leading the way through a garden and a fence dividing the houses. Violet felt like a third wheel. The feeling was not desirable. So she decided to distract herself.

The lonely looking, wandering dog passing by the house down the street seemed perfect.

Violet walked over to it, calling to it and making whistling noises. The dog's attention was seized immediately and it stared at her as she approached. She gathered that is was predominantly a German Shepherd, although it could have been mixed.

"My, you are a pretty boy, aren't you?" she murmured, crouching to be eyelevel. Its eyes were a creamy brown and caramel color and fur soft and silky. She rubbed the skin between his eyes and his tongue lolled out as he leaned into her.

"Violet," Dean barked sharply, breaking their companionship. "Get over here."

"Sorry, boy. I've gotta go," she whispered to the dog and jogged back up to the front door. The tassels of her hoodie swung with each step.

"What the hell were you doing?" Dean asked harshly, arms crossed.

"Petting a dog."

"Didn't your mother ever warn you about petting strange animals?" Dean scolded as they stepped through the front door after the owner.

"Well, no," Violet countered sheepishly. "She didn't care that much to say anything like that."

Dean suddenly wasn't sure how to respond. He should have chosen his words more carefully, he realized, but it was already way too late.

"It's okay, Dean," she whispered into his ear. "For your sake, I won't pet anymore strange animals."

The owner, Miss Mara, then went on to show them where the perp usually entered and left the house (although she admitted she hadn't actually ever seen who – or what – was breaking in). She further explained that it was typically later in the evening and that everything was usually still in place by the time the perpetrator left. Nothing stolen, nothing moved, nothing broken.

"That does sound odd," Sam commented. Mara nodded, her wrinkly face shriveling as her frown deepened.

"That's why I was thinking it couldn't be a burglar. Lisa told me she knew some people that could help me. So, thanks for coming out. Oh, and, what service are you with again? I would guess Homeland Security," Mara asked seriously.

Dean and Sam sputtered, glancing at one another in desperation. Miss Mara cackled suddenly.

"I'm just joking. Lisa told me all about what you do. Feel free to search the house and…well, do what you do. I'll be upstairs in my bedroom, doing what_ I_ do. Let me know if you need anything." Mara patted Dean's shoulder with a warm, secretive smile and waddled up the creaky stairs.

"I think she likes you," Violet teased Dean, elbowing him. Lisa laughed casually.

"So, I guess you can take it from here?" Lisa asked. Dean nodded. "All right. Well, when you get done, let me know."

Without any objection or comment from the brothers, Lisa stepped between them and exited the house, much to Violet's joy. She couldn't say she hated Lisa exactly, but she did find herself feeling particularly strange while she was around.

"All right. Fan out. Check doors, windows, and for anything unusual, like the smell of sulfur or strange markings. You know," Dean briefed, waving his hands to dismiss them. Like they had planned it all from the beginning, they strode to equally parted spots in the room and scanned like there was no tomorrow.

Violet's eyes were burning from sleepiness, but she wouldn't admit it. Complaining around the boys was a moot point and she never liked it anyway. Too self-centering.

When they converged, they all came empty-handed.

"Nothing," Sam said, disappointment ringing in his tone.

"Same," Violet added dismally.

"Not a single thing wrong with this picture? Either this thing is really good or someone's a little crazy," Dean muttered. "Well, the least we can do is stake this place out for the night, watch all the possible exits for activity. Based on what Mara said, whatever is bothering her should be here soon."

Within minutes they had laid out a game plan, assigning each of them a station. Sam was at the front door, Dean at the back, and Violet upstairs for protection.

"That's the most important job, Vi," Dean had explained when he felt her initial confusion at being upstairs. "If this thing decides to go hostile and rips through Sam and I, you're the last line of defense against it to keep Mara safe. So you make sure that thing doesn't get near her, understand?" Violet had nodded curtly and suppressed the desire to salute. She realized the weight of her duty and wore it with earnest. With that, she had marched up the stairs and stood resolutely in front of Miss Mara's bedroom door, ready for the devil himself.


	61. When the Evil Seeps In

**When the Evil Seeps in**

A couple hours later, she was found sitting, leaning her head back against the door and trying hard to stave off gripping sleep. A bit of commotion downstairs caught her attention and like a bucket of cold water on her face, she bolted up to her feet and leaned over the railing to allow her a view of the back door.

Dean had his face glued to the windowpanes; he was watching something.

"Sam," he whisper-called and Sam was instantly right there. "Think it's our perp?"

Sam shrugged in confusion.

"Possible, I guess. But it just looks like a lost dog to me."

"Well let's just wait and see what it does." Dean shooed Sam back to his station and stood out of sight in the cover of shadows.

_A dog?_

Violet shuffled down the railing further and leaned over it more in attempt to find the dog in question. It was slinking around beneath the trees and bushes closer to the house; its actions were decidedly suspicious and strangely conscious, almost like a human. Not to mention it was the exact dog Violet had pet in the street earlier.

Her eyes followed it across the yard as it continued to approach the house until finally, it stopped at the back door on the patio and _tried the handle._ The furry animal somehow had the sense to launch itself up on hind paws, bat at the door handle and hold it down until the door swung free, allowing him entrance. Violet could only stare, hardly processing the reality of what just occurred. She barely remembered her duty as the protector of Mara as well.

"Mara didn't say she had a dog," Dean murmured under his breath, readying his weapon. "Skinwalker."

The German Shepherd's ears perked up and eyes became alert, darting around the room for the danger he sensed but had yet to find.

He bolted, realizing he wasn't alone and that there were two men about to round on him with weapons in hand, and skated across the hardwood and tile on his nails. Dean cocked his shotgun and let a shell fly, but it narrowly missed the dog's furry hide. The animal sprinted for the stairs and bounded up them by threes, desperate to get to Mara.

"Don't let him through!" Dean bellowed from the first floor, boots smacking hard as he pounded toward the stairs after the creature. Sam raced to the stairs behind Dean.

"The hell I won't," Violet muttered, standing firm in preparation with the shotgun zeroed in on the pup.

At the last second, he pounced right at her from the top of the stairs out of the darkness and ruined her chance of shooting him dead. She was thrown to the floor, head slamming down and gun flying from her grasp. The dog barreled at Mara's bedroom door, determined to rip it off its hinges and get to her. Violet tossed herself onto her elbows.

"Oh no you don't! Stop your furry ass right there!" she growled while scrambling to her feet.

The dog halted, mid-thrust toward the door, and its eyes darted around in its head furiously. Violet stared at it in confusion and surprise before she realized what she'd indeliberately committed. She dusted off the seat of her pants and slapped her hands together.

_You're not going anywhere._

She felt empowered suddenly. She could stop anyone and make them do _anything_ she wanted, anything at all. She smiled darkly at the dog.

The boys finally made it up the stairs, but she didn't pay any attention to them. The dog was the only thing occupying her mind next to the power she felt. She took a few steps forward and unsheathed the knife hidden in her boot.

The next thing she knew, the blade was buried into the torso of the animal all the way to the hilt.

_Do it again._

So she did.

_Again!_

And she did.

Over and over she swung her arm back and forth, stabbing the dog and enjoying the blood spurting all over her hands and running down her arm. She heard a voice, but disregarded it. Then she heard it again and strong hands were clamped down on her shoulders, yanking her from the animal.

"Violet, stop! That's enough!" Sam's voice penetrated her high and she came crashing down. It was as if she'd been stripped from her body like a peel from an orange and then roughly beamed right back into it. She nearly staggered at the change of feeling. She looked down at her hands and couldn't fathom that they were really hers.

"Oh, my God," she murmured in disbelief. The dog lay at her feet, lifeless and twitching, as the blood ran and soaked into the carpet. Mara stood at the door in a nightie and stared at her with eyes that pierced through reason.

"What have you done?"

Violet gave her one helpless look and stumbled down the stairs and out to the street, leaving the boys behind to explain everything. They could fill Mara in by themselves; they'd have no trouble explaining that the dog was a skinwalker as opposed to a furry friend. Meanwhile, Violet needed to force herself into a more stabilized state.

She flinched as she caught the color of blood in her peripheral, along with the smell emanating strongly from her hands. Dawn was barely breaking, so the remaining dimness rendered the color very dull, but that didn't change what it was. Frantically, she searched for a hose or some source of water to wash away all the red.

She spotted a spigot attached to the side of Mara's house next to a watering can and bolted for it. With a few good yanks, it turned on full blast and she submerged her hands into the stream of frigid water. She scrubbed them together, using her fingernails to scrape off the crimson, the evidence of the deed she had done. It had been in duty, sure; she wasn't guilty because of killing the supernatural creature. She was guilty of how marvelous it had made her feel to sink the knife into something living.

The red finally began to roll off her skin, mixing with the water and coating the concrete pad she was on a sickly diluted burgundy. It seeped into her shoes and she shivered as she stepped back and sloshed to the front porch, falling on the top step butt first to collect her thoughts.

Her head fell into her hands and she shoved down the scream choking in her throat.

_This is me…this is my future,_ she thought dejectedly. _It's setting in so quickly._ A heavy sigh left her lungs and she felt deflated. _If I don't stop this now, it'll only get worse. That demon and that voice were right. The goodness is going to be sucked from me like a leach by my "inner evil." This is only just the beginning._

"If something like this happens again, I may not come back to myself like I did in this situation. I may very well lose myself completely," she heard herself say. Her ears started ringing at the reality spiraling in her mind.

"I have to end it," she murmured.


	62. It's What You Do to Me

**It's What You Do to Me**

The boys plus Mara eventually came out onto the front porch to join Violet. Lisa, only a little while later, came over to ask for a report on what happened. Dean, like the soldier he was, recited everything back to her in practically a play-by-play. Violet tried not to put too much stock into their interactions, but she couldn't help but feel Lisa's affections toward Dean. She also couldn't completely discredit the way he looked at her in some moments.

_You'll be gone soon, _she told herself. _Dean can like whomever he desires then. _She gave a sigh again just as Dean wrapped up his explanation.

"Turns out it was a skinwalker. Violet was the one that ganked him before he could get to Mara. Case closed," he told Lisa who was listening intently. Sam leaned against the white railing with his arms crossed and expression void of everything. Violet studied him for a moment when he unexpectedly glanced down at her. When their eyes locked, she felt the meaning of his words in simply his gaze. He knew what had happened back there with the dog and he knew what was to come.

_Don't worry about it. You'll know when it's time,_ he repeated in her mind and she believed him. He had been right. This was the exact moment to do it. This was it. She took a deep breath and stood, giving Sam a slight nod. He came out of his expressionlessness and donned something a little more serious.

"Dean," Violet murmured, lightly touching a hand to his shoulder. She hesitated before speaking. "Can I talk to you and Sam alone for a second?"

Dean stared at her as if to decipher her words, but he didn't have much to go on. Realizing this, he nodded simply and followed them to the end of the driveway with confusion apparent on his face. Violet could have hugged Lisa for looking in the opposite direction and monopolizing all of Mara's attention. The last thing she needed was an audience.

"Dean," Violet began again, feeling slightly more confident with Sam standing close to her. He was her support beam against Dean's potential protests. Suddenly she chickened out of telling him her real reason for talking to him in private and hit on a somewhat related topic instead. "Get out of this job. Go with Lisa and be a family-man; hang up the hunter title. Besides, I've never seen you look at a woman like that before, not with that…that genuine gaze." Her brown irises found his and immediately locked his gaze. He was struck with her words and wasn't sure what to say aside from all the truths begging to get out. He was so struck dumb by what she'd said, he couldn't even think up any way to joke himself out of it.

Dean debated what to say next, nervously clenching and unclenching his jaw, wondering whether he _should _tell her the truth or continue to hold it all in and simply walk away without another word. The former spilled from his mouth before he could prevent it, even though half of him didn't want it to stop. He'd held himself back way too long; Violet deserved to know.

"That's just because you've never seen me look at you, Violet." He reached a sure hand up to rub his fingers over her cheek and brush back some misplaced strands of hair.

"Dean…" Tears filled her surprised eyes, but they didn't fall.

Then he decided to finally do it, to finally just take the leap.

And he kissed her.

This action surprised her more than his words, especially because he was doing this all in public. At the same time, she never knew he could be so gentle with anyone and at that moment, she wished with all her being that time would just freeze. That it would let them enjoy this sense of bliss and warm fullness welling up inside them both.

But her confession was still nagging at the back of her throat.

"I want…" Dean stopped, grounding his teeth in frustration, hating himself for not being able to come up with the right words all of the sudden. "I want to stay with you. Lisa's great, but this life…hunting…is what I want. With you." The words tumbled from his lips in a soft murmur. Violet tenderly ran her hand down the side of his face and neck, resting it just below his ear. She shook her head sadly.

"You can't," she whispered with hurt lacing her tone. _This is going to be harder than I thought._

"What? What do you mean? Why not?" Confusion pulled his eyebrows together and his hazel eyes darted between hers. "Don't you want me to stay?" Disbelief found its way into his voice. He had just confessed something that he'd never _ever_ voiced to anyone in his lifetime, and she was rejecting him even though he knew she felt the same way about him. _There has to be something else, some other reason,_ he thought in desperation, the contents of his mind becoming a whirlwind. Violet nodded her head slowly.

"I want that more than anything, Dean, but I can't. You know I can't." He continued to search her eyes for a deeper explanation.

"I don't understand."

"I'm sorry Dean, but you knew that sooner or later, I was going to die whether I go dark side or not. And, seeing how I acted earlier with that skinwalker, it looks like it'll be earlier and it's pretty darn certain."

"No no no, you remember what I said; I'll make sure you don't go dark side. I swore with my life that I'd protect you and keep you safe. I promised it with everything I've got." She shook her head again, her eyes squeezing shut at a rush of tears. Dean hated to see her cry, especially when he was the cause.

"That's the thing, Dean; even if we did stay together, word would get out that a cambion is alive and out there, and hunters would start coming after me. It doesn't matter that you believe I won't turn; you know hunters don't listen to reason. They'd hunt me until they killed me and if you stood in their way, they'd undoubtedly kill you too." She looked up at him with sad, tired eyes. "I don't want it to come to that. I don't want you to die for me when that can be avoided. When I can beat all of them to the punch."

"I'd die for you in a heartbeat if that meant protecting you just a little bit longer. I can't just give up on you now, not after everything we've been through." He still didn't understand her reasoning and he hated how blinded he felt.

Before he could filter, more truth forced an exit through his lips. "I promised myself when we picked you up that if anything happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself." His voice came as a broken whisper. Violet hated herself for doing this to him.

"But Dean, you don't have any idea if there's a way to stop me from turning and eventually the devil would sniff me out. It's only a matter of time and you know that. You just won't admit it or accept it." Violet rubbed her thumb over his pulse and felt his heartbeat quicken. "The sooner I die, the sooner we know for sure I won't get a chance to turn and hurt someone or get everyone killed," she murmured, glancing down at the ground between her feet before matching his gaze again.

Dean began to catch on to what she was implying. "No, Violet, no one is going to kill you. Not now, not soon. I won't let that happen." He shook his head, eyes becoming desperate. "I can't let that happen." He glanced at Sam then, disconcerted that he wasn't saying anything.

"Dean, this is the last thing I want to do to you, but you have to let me go. Either you kill me now or I get hunted and tortured in the future, watching you die in attempt to protect me." She ran a comforting hand through his spiky hair and kissed him, savoring the feeling of his lips and warmth. "Go live a happy life with Lisa. It's what you want. I know it's what you want. Forget about me, Dean. Leave the bad things behind and don't forget to remember the good times we had. Remember how much good will result from my death in the future. Soon I'll only be a lost memory-"

"Don't talk like that. Don't talk like you're going to die. I'm not going to do it. No one is." He said it like it was the end to all conversations, as if it trumped everything. Unfortunately for Dean, he'd already lost the battle days ago and there was no compromise.

"Sam?" Violet said, giving Sam his cue.

He walked over to the Impala, grabbed something from the trunk and came forward with Dean's gun in hand.

"Dean...she's right. I can do this if you can't." Sam was eerily calm when Dean matched his gaze. He looked back at Violet.

"This is the only sure way to know that I won't turn." Her voice was so soft it made him want to listen to her. But he just couldn't believe it. No damn way.

"Sam? You were in on this?" Dean accused him brutally. Sam nodded curtly, expression unchanging. Dean felt his insides begin to wither like a dying flower. He trained his gaze on Violet again. "You're really serious about this?" She nodded and smiled sadly at him, only one corner of her lips lifting.

"I am."

Dean turned to Sam and went to grab his gun from his grasp.

"Dean, are you sure you can go through with this?" The man in question nodded stiffly, his eyes suddenly full to the brim with steeled determination, although the despair welling inside him like an overfull balloon began to make his eyes swim. They all knew how unusual this behavior was for him and Sam raised his eyebrows in concern.

"Sammy, remember Madison?" Dean grated roughly, pressing his lips into a line. Sam's jaw clenched and flexed as the wave of memories hit him and his grip slackened on the handle of the gun, understanding showing through his eyes. "Give me the gun."

Sam surrendered it without another word.

Violet gave Sam a lengthy hug and whispered some things into his ear before turning away to walk with Dean into the most private spot between houses they could find. She gave Lisa a small wave as they passed by and Lisa ushered Miss Mara into her house as if she knew what was about to happen.

"What if a regular bullet doesn't kill me?" Violet joked in attempt to lighten the mood even though she could feel her throat already choking up with tears. Dean tried to smile for her one last time, but it looked more like a grimace instead.

_Oh, Dean…_

They stopped at the end of the picket-fence, suburb-version alleyway and she twisted to face him. She caressed his face, feeling the rough, thin stubble beginning to show itself on his chin. His eyes closed softly at the welcomed contact.

"I'm sorry I have to do this to you, Dean. No one should have to go through with something like this, especially without fair warning."

"It's not your fault," he told her quietly, stalling as much as he could to revel in the feeling of her fingers on his skin. Such a small, sweet window of confessions and goodbyes. He hated himself for not telling her earlier.

"No, I guess it's not. But it's what I am and I can't do anything about that. Except this," she replied, gripping the wrist of the hand his gun sat in.

Realization hit him like a splash of cold water when he looked down at the shiny barrel of the gun. He curled the fingers of his other hand into Violet's auburn locks and pulled her head up to kiss her again, thoroughly this time. Simultaneously, he grabbed at things he could use to possibly change her mind, but lamentably there wasn't anything he could say. He felt so damn weak.

Gently pulling away, Violet rested her forehead against his.

"Go make Lisa happy. Promise me, Dean, that you'll go to her once you're finished here. Promise me and your brother that you'll go to her and live a white picket fence, apple pie life," she murmured sorrowfully, her voice thinning and breaking as she spoke. Her hand was still perched on his shoulder and he could feel her trembling.

Dean clenched his jaw and felt his eyes get wet. "I promise," he ground out, his lip quivering the slightest bit. _But I can't promise that. _The last time he'd come anywhere near this close to breaking down was when Jo had died.

Violet brought her lips to his ear as he pulled the gun up to her head. To keep her steady, he wrapped a strong arm around her waist and rested his hand on the small of her back, fingers splayed.

The gun suddenly felt heavy and cold in his hand as he raised it to her temple. He'd killed too many things to count in all his years as a hunter without so much as a lick of guilt, but he knew in an instant that this would be the hardest thing he'd ever have to do. He desperately wished there was some other way, that they could_ find_ a way, but deep down he knew it was futile. This was the only way out for her and there was no convincing anyone otherwise.

"Don't forget to remember," she repeated, slipping something small into his pocket. He went to ask her what it was for, but she stopped him by placing a finger to his lips. "I love you, Dean. I should have told you sooner. Goodbye," she murmured, voice quavering.

Dean hesitated, his mouth opening and closing in frantic indecision on what to say in return, if anything. He wanted to say he loved her, he really did, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to do it. _It would only hurt worse…_

"Goodbye, Violet…"

With the slight of his finger, the trigger was pulled.

He instantly regretted holding back those three damn words as two tears fell soundlessly from his eyes. Violet collapsed into him as her last breath left her and he wrapped his other arm around her to hold her tightly to him, burying his face in the hair draped over her neck. He fell to his knees with the weight of everything he bore on his shoulders.

"Violet, I…I'm sorry…"

_She knows, Dean. She's known for a while. And so have you._

He wiped the stupid tears from his eyes and looked at the small vial she'd placed in his pocket not moments ago. It reminded him of the old house they'd gone to with the man who altered memories. His eyebrows furrowed.

_Don't forget to remember…_

"Dean!" Sam shouted from the mouth of the alley. "I think you better get out of there. A huge black cloud is coming this way and we need to get the hell away from here. It looks like we just shook the beehive. The demons don't seem to like that their queen has been killed."

Dean dropped the vial back into his pocket and scooped Violet's limp form into his arms.

"We're going to have to get rid of her body before they can get to it and do anything to her," Sam stated, knowing Dean's mental processes were in scary disarray. "They're coming from the west, so let's head east as fast as we can. Then maybe we can try to lose them. I don't know about you, but I don't feel like fighting that many demons all at once."

They loaded up into the Impala, gave brisk goodbyes to Lisa who was standing on the porch once again, and gunned it out of there.

"Lock your doors and windows and get the salt ready in case they decide to try and get in," Dean shouted at her as they sped away. Sam elected to drive, knowing Dean was in no state to do so. Shock was still apparent in his demeanor. Dean couldn't stop glancing back at Violet's form in the back seat. Blood was beginning to ooze from the fresh wound in her head, but he didn't have the mind to care about the seats of the Impala getting stained.

Sam looked up into the rear-view mirror and saw a figure sitting beside Violet's body. His nerves shoved him into red-alert status.

"It's just me," Castiel explained. Dean whirled around to face him. Castiel looked down at Violet's face before turning back to Dean. "I am here to ensure that her body isn't taken by demons and gets properly destroyed."

"Did she make it to heaven?" Sam asked quickly, keen to get away from the gaining pitch-black cloud following them.

"She did. I made sure of that as well. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll dispose of this and it can all be over," Cas said, making to snap his fingers and banish Violet's body into oblivion.

"Wait," Dean barked. Castiel looked at him, unamused. "Let us do a proper bon fire for her. At least let us have that."

"The demons will be here soon and you have no chance of surviving against them all," Castiel announced bluntly.

"I know. Can't you help us out? Cloak us or something? She deserves this, Cas."

Castiel sighed and twisted to glance through the back window at the ominous, fast-approaching cloud. "I will help you, but only for a few moments."

"That's all we need," Dean replied, thankful.

A handful of minutes later, they stood in front of a massive blaze under the cover of Castiel's cloaking. Violet's body lay in the center of the flames, gradually reducing to ashes.

_Take that, demons, _Dean wanted to say, but he couldn't bring himself to speak. He shoved his hands into his pockets and sighed when his fingers bumped into something. The vial. He extracted it from the depths of his pocket and examined it.

"Those are her memories," Castiel told him as he approached Dean. "She wanted you to have them so she could still be alive for you, but in a different way. She wanted to make sure you wouldn't forget."

Dean chuckled sadly then, rolling the small vial around in his palm.

"How could I?"


	63. One Last Thing

_**One Last Thing**_

Heavy footfalls came clomping down the stairs only a few minutes later, the rhythm almost frantic. Bobby swung around the corner into the kitchen and took in the scene. Violet glanced up at him from the receding brown puddle of mess on the linoleum. One more wipe and it almost looked like nothing had happened.

"Mornin', Bobby," Violet greeted. He seemed baffled by her demeanor.

"What in tarnation happened down here?" he demanded exasperatedly. "Upstairs, it sounded like a war was starting." Violet chucked the rag into the sink and dried her hands on her pajama pants as she approached Bobby.

"I'll explain, Bobby, but can I ask you something first…?"

He eyed her cautiously.

"What is it?"

"I want another tattoo," she told him simply.

"Okay. Now what happened down here?"

Violet repeated back to him the jist of what had happened; her confession for thinking of killing herself, the mug being launched against the wall, Castiel showing up and so forth. His eyebrows rose at the more interesting parts, but otherwise, he didn't say anything. Typical Bobby.

"So you think your death will make it easier on our part when we have to deal with the devil?" Bobby asked, determined to get things straight. Violet nodded.

"Pretty much."

"I guess I see your logic. Now, about that tattoo. I can't promise nothin' fancy. The only thing I'm ever asked to do is the anti-possession tattoo, so be warned," he explained, leading her into the study.

"It's okay; the idea is pretty simple. I want all of your names over my heart."

Bobby gave her a look as he drew out the needle.

"You sure? You realize that's permanent, right?"

"It'll only be permanent for a little while longer," she countered.

"Right. So what exactly are you looking for?"

Violet grabbed a chair and sat opposite him, scooting closer.

"I want Dean, Sam, Bobby, Ellen and Jo tattooed. It can be in just a list. I don't care if it's not perfect or fancy," she explained.

"All right. We'll see what I can do," he replied, readying the needle.

Within half an hour, Violet had gotten what she'd wanted.

"It looks great," she exclaimed while examining it in the mirror. "Thank you." She pulled Bobby into a hug although he wasn't prepared for it.

"Uh, you're welcome," was all he could say.

Violet smiled.

A little while later, Violet tromped down the stairs and sauntered past Sam in the kitchen, all decked out in athletic clothes (or as close to athletic as she could get).

"Going for that run I mentioned earlier," she stated, opening the back door and disappearing amid the junkyard.

Once she knew she was out of sight of the house, she hid behind a particularly large stack of gutted cars.

"Um, Castiel, I summon you down to earth. Uh…I pray Castiel to appear to me at once…amen?" she tried.

"What do you want?" Castiel asked bluntly from behind her. She whirled around. His expression was more dull than usual.

"I'm so glad you came," she said, approaching him.

"What do you want? I assure you I have better things to do than to talk with you."

"Sorry. I'll get straight to the point. I have a couple favors to ask."

His eyes narrowed much like they had during their last meeting.

"Why would I want to help you?"

"For Dean," she poked in attempt to give him reason. "Look, all I want is two things. Firstly, I'd like to ask for safe passage to heaven when I finally do give up my life, just to make sure demons don't somehow get ahold of me and drag me down to hell and have my death be for naught. Secondly, I want you to duplicate my memories. You know, kind of like that guy did back at the house where we met for the first time? Where he altered my memories? Instead of erasing or creating some, I want to see if you can copy them. Do you think those are reasonable requests? I mean, you won't have to deal with me in a little bit. I'll be out of your feathers soon," she reasoned.

Castiel pondered over what she'd asked for, staring at her the entire time as if to determine whether she was worth it or not.

"I will fulfill your requests," he agreed finally, although he was very solemn about it. "But do not expect anything more."

It was obvious he still didn't like her much.

"Thank you," she murmured as he approached her. "This really means a lot, Cas. I wish things could have been different for us."

Castiel said nothing as he performed her second requisition.

In seconds, she'd gone back through her entire life up until this moment. It felt eerie to have seen everything so clearly, to have been reminded of things she had forgotten happened. Castiel placed a small vial in her hands and she jumped, being broken from her memory replay.

"All you desire is in that bottle. Give it to Dean and he will have your memories," Castiel instructed. "I will carry out your first wish when you die."

"How will you know?"

He gave her a look asking whether she was honestly serious or not.

"I know these things, demon. And I will know the instant your last breath is given."

"Oh. All right. Well I guess that's all I have for…you…" she said, meaning to properly say goodbye, but Castiel had already disappeared. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised," she grumbled to herself.

After a few quiet moments of standing there, examining the vial, her eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, Dean," she murmured sadly, glancing heavenward with shiny eyes. She fell back against the stack of cars, her legs going weak. "I'm so sorry."

*Author's notes: And that's all, folks! If you've stayed with this story from beginning to end, I applaud you and thank you graciously. Honestly, thanks so much for sticking with this. I really hope you have all enjoyed this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Perhaps I'll write more SPN fanfictions in the future. In the meantime, don't forget to review this if you really did like it! And even if you didn't and have some constructive crit for me – review away! I love feedback.


End file.
